Demanding Demonic

Like a sepia smudge on the clear landscape,
pain hovers inconveniently,
right at the edge of the visual field
where it is never quite in focus
but cannot be ignored.
Despite attempts to scrub it away,
it lingers, demanding attention
and so I employ distraction.
Some bracing sea air,
good food and great company
fill the afternoon
and my consciousness.
Angry at being ignored,
the pain escalates;
poking and throbbing and provoking.
Evening falls and I give in;
pay it my full attention,
give in to its demands,
but too late.
The sepia smudge,
now a huge, ugly coiling monster,
twists and curls in on itself
taking me with it for the night.