let it hurt

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no fighting chance,
and no gleaming light
at the end of the
tunnel.
so where do you go?
you sit in it.
you hold its hand
and you count the 
minutes, hours, and days
like they're passing
one into the other,
seamless.
the world continues moving
on its own.
some days,
it will hurt so bad it's
sneaking up your airway
like an invisible hand
smothering the soft
flesh.
let it hurt.
you can have your heartbeat 
be the only thing
marching, for a 
while.
the floor you're laying on
will not go anywhere,
and neither will the ceiling,
or the walls.
neither will the sound
stillness, persevering
in the confines 
of your most patient 
bones.