It does no good to look toward pain for, yet, another day.
It will await me either way.
IT will hold my hand, as it always does.
Making love to me with ITS vicious touch.
I will pay respect to the searing stab, as I always do.
I will allot transgressions…their due.
But I am a proud woman warrior in bohemian clothes.
And, as vague ability diminishes.
So shall my inner strength grow.
when the battle between pain and I reunite…