to call it a bombshell,
would be a misnomer.
for it causes prolonged anguish,
and not merciful obliteration.
indeed, i would much rather,
be blown to tiny bits
than suffer from within,
slow, and agonizing.
my head keeps spinning
as an imaginary vise
presses on my heart,
getting tighter with no reprieve.
it plays over and over in my head
like a song you can't stop singing,
a habit you can't seem to break,
a past you are helpless to change.
while i am a thinking man,
there is no logic here,
no hope of understanding,
just simple, real, hurt.
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