My Pains Poem by Mahyar Goodarzi

My pains are not dress to take them off
They don't go in words
They don't go in shouts
They are unspeakable
They must be hid

They are different from others' pains
Cos they are pains of others
Others' wrinkles,
Others' sleeves,
Others' names,
Others' IDs are aching

But I'm aching within and without
From being
From knowing
My soul's curve,
My pride's shoulder,
My heart's shelter is broken
My poetry's arm,
My cry's alarm is injured

My pains are insisting strangely
They're familiar
They're local
They're domestic
They're my old friends
They're with me from my first penning
They're existence of my destiny
Well, my doom
How can I release my instant doom?

Pain is the nature of my heart
How can I release my nature?

Pain is paging me
It is aging me
What the hell is caging me?
That's what is raging me

Pain doesn't go in words
When it's my middle name
How can I call myself painless?
(Does pain killer work?)