Should I be afraid that I no longer feel?
That I stare death in the eyes, hold hands with
Pain, kiss fear on the cheek and embrace heart
Break like it is the one thing that holds my
Worn being together, desperately clutching
At the frayed stitches of my body and
Fervently keeps the hemline of my soul intact
Like the nightmares of this universe are what
Keeps me whole, keeps me from crumbling entirely
Because my heart knows no better than pain
Because I have never known a world without
Agony and grief, and mellowed screams and
Lullabies of sobs and birdsongs of quiet pain
Because my fields are infertile without grief,
Because my skies are starless without heartbreak,
Because my soul is void without my scars that
Scream. They scream the stories that ignite
the raging wildfire behind my damp oak eyes
Each word, on each page, of each blood stained,
tragedy, pull the threads of my being into a living,
Fighting, person. There is beauty in melancholy,
Tears that birth sunflowers that blossom without sun
Light, that glares through the cracks of my heart,
Without a match to light it. Only silent, sobering
Pride, that I have made it to today. That I have seethed
Through the stab wounds and gunshots and blistering
Burns of unspeakable pain, and I have survived with
Grace, with a smile that embraces the worn corners of
This earth, and with a heart that leaves love wherever I go.
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 4:55 PM UTC
Should I be afraid that I no longer feel?
That I stare death in the eyes, hold hands with
Pain, kiss fear on the cheek and embrace heart
Break like it is the one thing that holds my
Worn being together, desperately clutching
At the frayed stitches of my body and
Fervently keeps the hemline of my soul intact
Like the nightmares of this universe are what
Keeps me whole, keeps me from crumbling entirely
Because my heart knows no better than pain
Because I have never known a world without
Agony and grief, and mellowed screams and
Lullabies of sobs and birdsongs of quiet pain
Because my fields are infertile without grief,
Because my skies are starless without heartbreak,
Because my soul is void without my scars that
Scream. They scream the stories that ignite
the raging wildfire behind my damp oak eyes
Each word, on each page, of each blood stained,
tragedy, pull the threads of my being into a living,
Fighting, person. There is beauty in melancholy,
Tears that birth sunflowers that blossom without sun
Light, that glares through the cracks of my heart,
Without a match to light it. Only silent, sobering
Pride, that I have made it to today. That I have seethed
Through the stab wounds and gunshots and blistering
Burns of unspeakable pain, and I have survived with
Grace, with a smile that embraces the worn corners of
This earth, and with a heart that leaves love wherever I go.
I think when I was writing this, I realised I love to the heights that I do because I have seen pain like no one has. That I am kind because of my grief. I think I realised that without my pain I may not be the person I am- and for that reason I am far from ashamed of my trauma.
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