Pain

I wish I had the words
to make you feel the way I do.
Wish I could use them
to crush you,
to grow a seed inside you
that roots in your guts,
blooms
white-hot
rage;
angry vines that snake
around your heart,
your lungs,
and squeeze
until you can’t
make words.
Until you can’t
breathe.
Until you hurt
like me.