You used to ask me how it felt. But I couldn’t… Could never seem to find the words.
But then recently I had to write about it. How I’d describe the pain. Took ages.
Eventually I said it’s like you ate a seed. In your food or something and you didn’t taste it or know it was there. And then it grows inside you and no one notices. And for ages you don’t notice. Grows and widens and deepens and entrenches itself, ploughing roots down into the core of your matter so it can grow taller, and thicker, from your chest and outwards, up out of your body until it is you. More you than you are. Until you’re just a vessel for it.
It’s not even pain anymore. Something else completely. Can’t really call it pain at all