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Ghost pains run up
my legs,
across my spine and stab my arms
Aches of deeds long dead and pasts,
wounds that ache, though I was never hurt.
It aches,
it burns,
it stabs,
I want to cry out for no reason,
even though the pain increases.
But that would let it out and let others know
How can I explain a pain that has no reason,
that cannot be dulled with willow's bark,
or by dulling my whole body in a wave of alcohol.
It stabs,
It twists,
It burns me
Aches command my mind, and hold it tight,
squeezing tightly my attention
and never letting go
it all at once, it releases,
the pain recedes and fades.
Till nothing is left but the memory,
Of a pain without a source.
Damn it, if I'm to suffer,
I want to have done something for it!
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