Pain

I’m struggling to sleep tonight.
You see, I’m happy.
My body hurts.
I feel pain.
I don’t complain.
Honestly.
I don’t.
I’m happy.
I feel pain.
My body hurts.
I worked hard.
The last two days I packed and cleaned,
I washed and scrubbed till my muscles screamed.
I had to.
I didn’t want to.
I had to.
I have to do this thing.
Now.
And my muscles hurt.
My body burns.
My bones ache.
My stomach turns.
I hurt here.
And I’m happy.
Because it’s been too long,
since I’ve known where my pain comes from.
It’s been too long,
since I could point to a spot on my body and say
“I know what caused this pain.
I know what caused this sprain.
I know what caused that twist,
the pain in my side, in my wrist,
what causes my neck to crack,
and the pain in my back.”
For too long I’ve hurt,
and I couldn’t tell you why.
And when it hurt, I’d cry,
and I had nowhere to point,
to tell you how broken I am.

-o0o-