It starts in the throat.  
Bobbing up and down as if suspended in the moat.
Of my hearts emotion, in a vast ocean it is a point.
That gains weight until it disjoints my serenity.  
With anonymity it  pierces the natural flow.
Of the mundane that I comfortably know.  
And sustains the feeling of  an icicle slipping down my back.
I lack the traction to contain it, to will it away.
My words cannot stay and are wisked away.
Try as I may my walls fall away.
I am naked, bare in the cold.
Shivering snared unable to behold.
The figure sitting there, before me.  
The air within me, is too tightly squeezing.
I gasp for relief but all I do is sit there wheezing.
And in that moment my hope is lost.
Frozen solid with no way to defrost.
I leak emotion from bleary eyes.
And let out a agonizing cry.
Freshly cut and freshly bleeding.
The pain in my heart almost stops its beating.
It rolls in waves always searing.
All of this is the pain of simply being.