I’d like to thank Joseph Pinto for the inspiration for this piece.
If you’d like, take a moment to read his post Whelve.
invisible drama
not acknowledged
outsiders only see camouflage
but the damage
dispensed from previous generations
lingers deep
self-preservation from the ugliness
slows the hurt
but offers no resolution
only a temporary roadblock
to the pain buried inside
which will surface
eventually…
Our wounds can be many and possibly permanent, but our thoughts need to land emotionally to promote healing within; directly spoken to those who hurt us or expressed publicly for ourselves and others to see we can move on. The expression of pain can release us from it.
I guess
That is
The thing
With scars
They remain
In place
Forever
A showcase
Of the body’s
Memoirs
All those links
It cannot sever
Train of Thought by Christine Bolton
Your words live
in my thoughts
Sometimes they delight
and are invited to stay
Other times they wound
and I show them the door
They feed my heart
Nourish my soul
and thoughts
become my words
flowing freely
back to you
When words harm
they linger in my head
slowly poisoning
a bruised spirit
And I cannot
speak to you
Instead I write
my thoughts
that spew forth
like demons
exorcised
from my body
So you might understand
Self-repair is an arduous task, isn’t it?
I hope for a change as I age
lost in my hopes I’ve given all control
to randomness of life and people I don’t like
I could claim it now
it’s true that we have the power to change our lives
but I feel so weak and I don’t know how….
The Heat of Chaos by Fire & Female
I am not okay.
I am a total mess
back on the floor of
a home that has been
drenched in lighter fluid
and intentionally set on fire.
The walls are hot with flame,
the linoleum is melting under me,
but I remain curled up on the floor.
I want to cry out from the pain
as my skin is singed with
empty promises and
violent threats and
touch I did not authorize,
but the heat of chaos dries my eyes
and tells me I cannot cry here.
I watch as my safe space disintegrates,
crying out for someone to just
come and fucking rescue me.
I am not okay.
I am suffocating under the weight of
beams of complex trauma and
posts of vicious assault and
cement blocks of violation.
My voice is too tiny to hear,
or maybe no one fucking cares,
so I curl up tighter in my place,
allow the inferno to engulf me;
a reminder no matter how hard
I try to extinguish the fire,
I will always go up in flames.
birthed in pain anew
the anguish it overwhelms
will time heal my wounds
Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see? #136
the monumental woes
sudden jolts to the psyche
a shock of endless wounding ripples
splintering into a cascade of emotions
gigantic internal rifts open in us
flayed open in a jagged void
our mind, body and soul
doing the symbiotic dance of intense unease
putrid words heat up inside needing purged
they force themselves up and out unintelligibly
hot screamed tears flow down anguished cheeks
our reality forever changed
in time we hush our voice to gutteral moans
the liquid from our eyes slows to a trickle
the suffering seals us up within ourselves
and the sadness clings to every fiber in our being
arthritic pain felt everywhere there are no bones
living is hard
Pain buckles your inner state making recovery incredibly difficult. With every last bit of strength you have, choose to heal instead. Live again.
My thoughts
get stuck
in a thick tar swamp
knowing
that I am drowning
further below
but not quite
the end
Struggling is useless
Letting go is impossible
Tangled in poison syrup
In pitch dark night sky
all the stars
give up on me
They blink out
So
I settle in
being lost
dying alive
alone
Fracture, Fill by Tom Alexander
Break it like a bone
let it jut from torn skin
it’ll be raw and sore
then snap it back in
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
Through the ache
the growth seems subtle
Once it’s healed
that muscle gets supple
Fracture, fill
repair and grow
You can’t guess the extent
to which you’re capable
without some months spent
feeling utterly breakable
Fracture, fill
repair and grow…
Redux
No more…
wars
hatred
pain
lies
violence
abuse
crying
indifference
assholes
shame
guilt
anger
sobbing
frustration
neglect
discrimination
There will be an end to enduring suffering.
A permanent respite from all that is wrong with the world.
Finally peace.
The lament of letting people, precious or otherwise, down—humanity’s consistent occurrence. In pain, we continue to pass on agony, and alone we grieve.
A sharp pain I felt
Like a dagger plunged
Deep into my heart
The anguish, the agony unbearable
I teetered, held out my hand for support
It met empty air………
There was no one there
To hold my hand, to console
This aloneness has taught me a lot
A valuable lesson to rely
Only on myself and myself alone
The pain still hurts sometimes
But the anguish has died down
My courage has lulled it to sleep
What have we done? by David Guerrieri
I am not quite sure exactly what
Some parents expect of their children
In terms of success and failure
Because of course each individual is unique
In their own belief system developed through life
Though I do know exactly what
Some middle-aged men and women
Expect of their parent’s, which is
Love and Understanding that
Love and Understanding means more to them
Than any award or prize, delusions of wealth
And superfluous measures of success
Handed down from Great-Grandfather to Grandfather
Then Father to Son who’s soul purpose it often seems
Is to belittle the latter, like some draconian wheel
Turning itself in circles, only to cause
An endless cycle of fear and inferiority
Leading nowhere fast, leading nowhere good
On an endless road of resentment and ill worth.
And we don’t ask for this. We are born to this.
We are flesh and bone
Fueled by the imperfections of our father’s
Father’s, father’s son
Who one day will understand he did nothing wrong
Oh Mother, dear mother
What have we done?
the monumental woes
sudden jolts to the psyche
a shock of endless wounding ripples
splintering into a cascade of emotions
gigantic internal rifts open in us
flayed open in a jagged void
our mind, body and soul
doing the symbiotic dance of intense unease
putrid words heat up inside needing purged
they force themselves up and out unintelligibly
hot screamed tears flow down anguished cheeks
our reality forever changed
in time we hush our voice to gutteral moans
the liquid from our eyes slows to a trickle
the suffering seals us up within ourselves
and the sadness clings to every fiber in our being
arthritic pain felt everywhere there are no bones
living is hard
~*~*~
~*~*~
in silent shelter
minimizing what we expose
we cry and ache
but sometimes
it becomes necessary
to combine a consonant and a vowel
shedding light on our pain
it eases the burden we carry
that which shackles us from change
~*~*~
~*~*~
I Write Her 