Pain

Its pain that hurts, not the needle

Shunted from the cot

Into my head

to part the waves

Bridging the gap and the lack

The hole in the dark

That made this.

Its sharp yet its dull

breaks like a thick hull

Through icy waters.

Yet it is a friend of sorts

Not meant to be wished away

Though it may overstay- its welcome.

 It teaches me, in brail.

Because my eyes dare not fix on it

So delicate- sore with a salty wash

As the storm force battered an ailing iris

The window that sees

Such pain.

What capacity have we

For this strain this shock

We were built for this

This is our true default.