if you asked me about pain.

If you asked me about pain, I'd tell you its how my chest tightened like a big knot over itself, burning like fire, band-like sensations that overflowed my body. It's how air came in with pain, fast, consecutive but never enough to breathe.
It's the way my heartbeats were fast, fast that I could feel my heart in my throat tearing itself apart, the way I always thought it would just stop.
My jaws were clenching and I could taste nothing but the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Words were so foreign and I suddenly forgot how to speak, maybe I didn't know how to speak pain, maybe because it was a different language that I didn't want to learn.
If you asked me about pain I'd tell you it felt so heavy that it pulled me down aggressively. My eyelids flew shut and I didn't have the energy to open them again, or maybe I didn't want to, because I could only see the world around me painted with the vicious colors of pain.
If you asked me about pain, id tell you I've always wondered why it dressed in colors, and you'd tell me it's because it was invisible, weak and ugly, you'd tell me it's because it always hid between those molecules of pinks and yellows ascended from reflections within our eyes.
You'd only find me telling you that pain was derived from beauty and that beauty was never pure, I'd tell you it still heald light... If you asked me about pain ill tell you it was you, and that maybe evil still had light within.