My grandfather

got them

so they say,

so bad

he sat in his chair

motionless,

sweat dripping

from his

face, his

hands gripping

the arms

of the chair,

his feet

planted on

the floor,

the veins

of his neck

keeping time

with the

pain until

it passed,

until the horrible

presence went

away, knowing

it would come

again, knowing

he could take it.

I don’t suffer

from those.

I get

heartaches.