It is pulsing.
Too thick to let go.
And so it throbs.
A reminder of an incessant knocking
At the bottom of your spine
That won’t back off.
(You can squeeze your eyes shut until you see stars on the ceiling of your eyelids)
But, still there.
And you live with it.
Your cross to bear.
See? There is so, so much in a name.
It is all the difference.
It is the difference between that which we call a back ache,
And the pulsing.
Mind numbing, abacinating, scamperring