Pain,
is it shattered glass, scattered along the stretch of this road you have to take barefooted, is it acceptance that no matter how attentive you are in every step, shards of glass are bound to pierce the sole of your feet.
Pain,
is it the rigidity of an elastic band you wind around a pole, like how you steadfastly hold on to these beliefs, confident it won't snap, assured of it's durability, until you let yourself slip, and it ricochets to hit you in the face in the form of contradictions.
Pain,
is it a fine line, a tread-rope to be walked on 10 storeys above ground, with rescue mattresses laid below, promises in disguise as safeguards you discover, never did exist when you stumble, a miscalculated step, to plunge downwards and land flat on you back.
Pain,
is it you.
