An Old Friend, Pain
written by: The Barefoot Cajun
Pain is sort of an old friend
Been with me since junior high school
The warmth it brings me isn’t seasonal
As it attacks my joints I can see the flame in its reddish-orange, volcanic eruption
Burning, itching, nestled deep within my joints
Gnawing with crimson teeth, sharpening my joints into brittle, breakable bones
Bones that become ash during inflamed moments
Ash that moves with the blood bringing it toward other depositories
Such ash would be helpful to recycle
As the heat burns down and nothing left to ignite the ashes
I feel the brittle fold away and the bones become micro pieces of memorable hot pain
I watch the pieces of agony run through an hourglass
The gray-black ashes give off an aura of death
Slow-moving death as the pang lingers
A reminder that I am leaving the port of inflammation until the next episodic eruption
I try to forget as I gingerly move my joints
Yet each time the ashes move through the hourglass a charred scar remains, tattooed at the burn site
It’s the old friend reminding me there’s more to come
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Weight We Carry
- An Old Friend, Pain - May 15, 2026
- Love Encapsulated - March 17, 2026
- Tracy Chapman’s Doppelgänger - November 9, 2025
