I grasp the pain

I grasp the pain that binds me and swallow it— the chains scraping and ripping into my neck— I feel them tear into my chest and I feel pain grovel in pain as it reaches the acidity of my stomach. I squirm; for, this pain is agonizing. But I move because I still can. This pain binds my soul, but this pain provides a crimson ink I love to bleed. This pain is my comfort- a Home for my words to be conceived. This pain is my inspiration. My folly is born from experiences survived and pain reborn. My pen drips crimson words from the pain I am too ashamed to speak of.