OUCH!! But not wrong. This is accurate on so many levels. I’ve heard people say that “Pain is my muse” with respect to writing but I think it’s pretty accurate to say that those with a determined spirit would feel the same. For justice and their healing, pain inspires them to overcome and thrive because of it. This piece reasonated with me powerfully.
Pain and its retreat is something we all look for, don’t we?
by the protectors
by the horrors
the world has to offer
by the sword
most of my days
by this life
“Behind every beautiful thing,
there’s some kind of pain.”
― Bob Dylan
not gonna lie
this limited life experience
gives us some happiness
feeling free in our youth
fun with our friends
getting our bearings
but it’s not always so
we aren’t always so lucky
as evidenced in monstrous curve balls
the older we get
the harder it becomes
to navigate in some semblance of peace
happiness eludes us
negligible moments of comfort
in between the waves of pain
as contentedness is yearned
survival and self-preservation
locks in and takes hold of us
we despair and hope for ease
uttering a cry to be left unharmed
to remain untouched by the sorrows of life
looking back on it all
happiness is elusive and fleeting
the joys felt just dull the anguish
life is hard
life isn’t pretty
but when it’s filled with love, it’s better
This is one of my favorites of my dear friend, Candice! Here’s to it gripping you to your core. 🙂
Lean in, listen, I will only say it once
the shame, prevents a repeat
I must learn, not to be the person I have
my love, I’m not the girl you think I am
I don’t know where she went
I just stepped out for a moment & everything was gone
she might have gotten old, lost her way
that’s what happened when you keep
getting in the way of yourself
i’ve been waiting years for the sun to rise
remember how I used to be such a good dancer?
it was the tempo we inherited in each others grace
we turned like sundials who responded to moonlight
it hurts to think of those times
your hands entwined in mine like forest branches
creating crowns from winter flowers
piano keys winding down, ebony and ivory shivering
as opposites tripping velvet usher of hope
connection is such a rare place to…
View original post 547 more words
An excellent piece delving deep into what heart-felt emotions can do to us. I was pulled into her descriptions, fascinated by how well it described where grief can lay and feel. Just wonderful!
Even though I won’t ever see them again, I still carry them.
Inside and outside
On the lining of my heart
And the edges of my brain
Beneath my fingernails
Or hanging from an eyelash.
They saturate my writing and my words
Sloping from an s, or cradled in a y.
Sometimes, they are even in a glass of whiskey glass of wine.
But this is about the body.
If you were to unwind me out across the earth,
Spread out this fleshboat of a body crack open the ribs and peer beneath the surface—
They would be there too.
Resting on an iliac
Sleeping in a clavicle
Wrapped around the vertebrae
They trickle through the veins.
A small room, and the feel of them inside of it
The light and how it pours in through the window
A book of poetry upon the nightstand
A guitar sitting in the…
View original post 78 more words
i’ll not be the same
a new me emerged from pain
healing caused a change
Pain is the catalyst for healing.
i kept your sins sheltered within
you felt no shame, no guilt
the harm you unleashed on me
new scars, freshly laid, bloody patterns
wounds unhealing inside me always raw
the pain withered me into submission
your burden to bear by chance
my penance for choice of heart
but rage will emerge, so beware
for every injury, insult, and humiliation
there will be justice inflicted severely
bloody eye for my bloodied eye
painful welts you’ll receive from strangers
lawless games played for your ways
brutality and cruelty like i received
i’ll see you caged just like me
you made me what i am
empathy is like a curse
hurting and loving
at the same time
the sounds of cruelty
sing an ugly song
the images scorch my eyes
my strength within
as my body succumbs to emotions
pain is magnified
as the suffering continues
saying one thing
nothing but liars
abuse of all forms
harming possible futures
the evil sleep well
recounting their deeds
the sufferers of their wickedness do not
grieving with the harmed
wrap them in my being
losing respect and hope for this world
and aching for the vulnerable
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.*
Every damn day. This life, a daily grind of excruciation.
Always having to adjust mentally, physically and emotionally.
Moving through my day as cautiously as possible.
Pushing through the pain, feeling productive & proud.
I’m beyond the agony when I’m able.
But some days I have no spoons and I go
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave**
*Source: “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot
**Source: “Dirge Without Music” by Edna St. Vincent Millay