A ride of suffering

[US poet]

It started as an annoyance,
a small prick inside,
and that grew,
and grew,
and grew,
and at first I could still function,
keep moving with my normal duties,
but the pain became agony,
as this turn inside was too much to bear.
My hands clawed,
and smashed,
and attempted to stop,
but there was no exits,
or emergency buttons to press,
I was on a ride of suffering,
that was just beginning.
I'd twist,
and writhe,
but nothing helps.
I'm just hitting the peak,
when I can no longer move,
just stuck with my thoughts,
without the ability to act,
and this torment that I must go through.
I want to attack it,
rip it out of me,
cut it,
pull it,
destroy it,
but I can't.
I'm only able to sit and be frozen in misery.
It starts to fade,
I might be OK,
but there it is to build again,
can I take much more?
It slows some more,
and I can use my hands again.
The blood that was flowing,
is leaving my eyes,
and I see more than that red haze again.
I calm back down to normality,
and there is just a soft reminder,
that the pain may return.