Painful bricks hold down
my life, growing heavy over time,
adding 1 by 1.

It’s the story of my life,
my body hurts and
grinds upon the stone
sharpening my pain.

Bone and flesh slowly burns,
barring me in its ashes
and strife. (Sufacating)

My life once was light and airy,
after pain moved in, I became
allergic to this place.

Itching, burning, chains tightly
wound around my throat, stealing
my breath as I choke on its rine.
(I don’t even smoke).

This distribution of pain,
a process of making,
these products are killing me slowly.

Life decided to take the knife
and slice away at its own byproduct,
leaving it’s waste for me to eat.
(It all comes out the same).

Pain a byproduct of illness and decay.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton