Posted in Word Prompt

Dying Pain

By: Tremaine L. Loadholt

She sat, rubbing her leg. The ache in her thigh had gotten worse. She took out the prescribed pain medicine and looked at it.

“Oxycontin.”

She popped two pills onto her salty tongue and gulped down a glass of water.

All the pills in the world would never heal her pain. She held years of lies, secrets, and confessions in the depths of her gut.

The pain was making its rounds: head, heart, legs, etc.

Soon, she’d be gone and no one will care. 

Tremaine L. Loadholt has published three poetry books: Pinwheels and Hula Hoops, Dusting for Fingerprints, and A New Kind of Down. She’s editor and creative director for Quintessence: A Literary Magazine of Featured Medium Writers. Her artistic expressions are at A Cornered Gurl, Medium, and Twitter.

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Letters from inside my head

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