Pain is like wearing a heavy box.
You carry it everywhere you go.
All day, every move, every step.
People outside don't understand, it is invisible to them.
They laugh and are buoyant, they smile and want things from you.
They scoff and say, remove the box, it's easy.
But for me inside the box sight is distorted.
Sound is muffled.
There is no out, thoughts are disjointed.
Nothing matters but this box of pain.
The weight of it is sorrow.
To be free of this box is a dream.
