There are a million different ways to feel,
Pain and fear, before you start to heal.

Sometimes it comes all at once—
A punch to the gut, a kick to your shin.

Other times it’s like a haunting echo,
Nibbling in the depths of your mind — a soft bellow.

Late at night when you toss and turn,
It creeps upon you with a slow, aching burn.

If too much catches you by surprise—
You burst fast and bright, like fireworks against the night sky.

Try to control it and it fancies a little dance with you,
Little contractions to keep you on your toes—
slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.

Never mind the anxiety you try to hide,
That feeling between Fear and Pain,
It is Agony, but you can call it any other name.