Held, pressed, and strained.

There was something that held his heart,

not always gently, often too tight.

He felt the strain and the pressure

that some days seemed to envelope his entire chest.

It was uncomfortable at times,

yet he couldn’t imagine it gone.

There was a comfort in the pain,

even when he was on his knees.

Perhaps the pain meant he was still alive.

Perhaps it was better than feeling nothing

…some days he wondered

…some days it left.

Those were the hardest days.

When there was nothing

to make him know he could feel

…sadly alive.

 

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