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Pain

Pain

is consuming,

just beyond control.

 

I eat the building passion, stuffed down my throat,

the intensifying energy shooting out my fingers flailing,

hard frequency emitting from brainstem

my eyeballs panic to block.  (Anywhere but here.)

Like a switch thrown down

Too late… Too much….

I am done in.

The agony wins

and I am nothing

but pain,

with no awaiting joy.

 

My mistake was in seeking control,

was in fighting.  When pain is divinely willed,

only surrender of self will bear any fruit.

Christina Chase

Christina Chase View All

I don't call myself a poet — but the beating of my heart is poetry. I don't call myself a theologian — but the light of my mind seeks the Divine. Who I am is a Child of God, a Divine Creation, a person devoted to being fully human, fully alive.

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