Lace

Agony from the chronic eruption of nerves that delicately lace through my spine and entwine into vines of erotic discord electrically paralyze limbs, torso, oh ignorance. Beckoning my exhaust, I hull my skeleton from cold to catastrophic bitter nips from wind. Where, and am I proving strength? Strings, resembling aged marionettes, pulled by thoughts of survival to compensate for the added burden of a body grinding against its’ natural inclination to halt, shudder, cease movement. Sparks fly from friction, my sparks are held in swollen blood gathered in my knees, hips, back and finally, fingers. My concentration could be deemed as inadequate under pressure. “I feel like collapsing” I sigh, because I might. I probably have, but pride guides me to barely adjust. Envy in seeing so many move freely, while I am chained to a great misunderstanding. Save me, my eyes say, take and eradicate my pain with comfort. Relieve me.