Looks can be fooling

I don't see the knife, I don't see the assailant. 

I don't need to because I feel the pain,

sudden, gripping, impossible pain. 

I feel for the wound, to stem the flow of blood,

to end this pain. 

But there is no blood. 

My hands feel no wound, 

but the pain is so real, poison corroting my insides 

but there was no snake. 

Writhing in pain without moving,

Wailing in agony with no sound. 

A knife tearing and twisting out my insides with no blade poison rotting my veins with no syringe. 

He he asks if I am okay.