Over the threshold

Pain is more than just a word illusive to comprehend. A word that has appeared in my back catalogue of half written and archived songs one too many times. Some metaphorically implied, some plainly expressed.

Towards the start of the songwriters' gathering, I felt a deep sense of pain - a million needles and thread weaving in and out trying to repair the broken tissues only to create massive bleeding and possible heart failure. It's like a hungry heart kicking and screaming. Most of the night I was distracted, or allowed myself to be, so I could lure away the imagery described above. Didn't really do much but treated the surface symptoms, much like traditional western medicine.

And here I go again. That same grip that held me breathless and nauseous is slowly creeping up my lungs, threatening. I don't quite understand why. Except it got triggered by one rude phone call out of the blue from a potential client. Words associated with it were, cornered, interogated, bullied. A friend chided my response as unprofessional - which in a textbook situation is rightly so. Given the heat of the moment, I could have and should have. But...

So here I am, at the end of the rope, still lingering in the gunshot wounds applied at half time. Time is ticking away and I am losing sleep. I don't understand this occurence. Wish it would go away. Wish you would go away too.