screaming, tearing my eyes out,
feeling as if my stomach has cleaved to my spine,
gut-wrenching, feeling like my head will pop, like a champagne cork,
fear-sweat begins in the armpits, then the palms,
cold, beading on my forehead,
churning internally, panic sets in,
what have I done, now?
What have I done?!
Can I really be this stupid, moronic,
unable to see reality, utterly in a blacked-out state,
feeling, not feeling, being (barely) able to breathe,
not caring, not sharing, not daring,
not, Not, NOT!!!?
Nothing but

Hmm…don’t know quite where this came from, but it seems a little disturbed


About Tim Keeton

Flashfiction published by Seedpod Pub. Poetry appears in Read Write Poem 2010 Anthology. Founder & creator of the Undead Poets Society
This entry was posted in Poems, Poetry, UDPS and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Pain

  1. Jodi MacArthur says:

    Tim, You really need to be living above the ground, not under it. 😉 This actually reminds me of a Linkin Park’s lyrics.

    Wanna write some rock songs?

  2. Tim Keeton says:

    Absolutely. I was originally a voice major on a vocal scholarship and a professional musician. I’ve done everything from rock to opera, and am happy listening to classical or Linkin Park. Just another facet to my many-faceted Renaissance self. 😉

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