from the center of the storm

I get in what I can
little pieces
nervousness
they don’t tolerate
writing
anything personal
an environment
of pure stress
I could feel the pains
shoot through my
back this morning
and I want to somehow
comfort the others
but don’t know . . .
all I have is words
hang in there
we’ll be brothers alright?
anything.
I try my best to love
all these people
I’m forced to be around.
my stress is all right
I just stress over
their stress
electrical surges through
the body
it ain’t fair
it’s a test
it’s something
not a physical illusion
but very cancerous.
and so on.