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The pain arrives early.
It is punctual like that.

I am not losing anything now,
just the certainty that I won’t.

My body doesn’t understand time.
Just the warmth.

So it creates,
laughter somewhere I cannot see;
someone else catching the light I own.

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I wish my absence would beat my presence,
as evidence.

For which I am ashamed.
For needing something so unglamorous.
So unprotected. So human.

The voice keeps saying:
Detach first.
Calls this strength.
Liar.

…

And still, nothing has happened.
Just a future opening its mouth a little too wide.

So I sit here, holding a pain
that belongs to no moment, yet.
Paying a price
before anything has cost me anything at all.