Stretch.

I've hanged myself.
Crushing bone against the years
Always believed that I was stronger than
My body could have told me
I've hurt myself.

It's real pain this time
Not the kind you label heartache
But the kind of pain that steals all of your other senses
Colors all of your defenses
Weighs you down.

Gates opened by an injury,
Now the flood's welcome in.
Every bruise and ache and tender
Place burns brighter, does me in.

Cause once you light up all those senses
Turn them against me, towards the wrenching
Twisting burning sinews in my spine
I breathe a mantra that I'm fine.

I'm fine.
It's all coming in at once, but
I am fine.
I'm thankful that it isn't worse, but
I am fine.
Finally take another pill and I am fine.
For now.

I lick my wounds and pray to God
I am fine.
Someday soon I pray
That I won't need a knife to cure me
I am fine.
That thirty-five is too young to start cutting up
This body that's betrayed me
I.  Am.  Fine.

I guess I never thought I would hurt so much.
This early in my life.