There are thoughts that a string of petty syllables cannot convey
There are tears that never appear,
But you can see them anyway.
There is a numbness that overcomes you cell by cell, inch by inch,
Like dark tendrils of despair and sorrow.
The possibilities of an alternate life flood your thoughts
And you cannot fight, you cannot win, you can only give in.
The what ifs, the maybes- they are unforgiving.
Holding your hand always made me feel better,
But not today.
Embracing your strong body always made me feel harboured, safe,
But not today.
It is not enough, so inadequate.
This is a sorrow that cuts deeper than swords.
A grief that claws at the soul like hunger that torments a lonely child.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
There are thoughts that a string of petty syllables cannot convey
There are tears that never appear,
But you can see them anyway.
There is a numbness that overcomes you cell by cell, inch by inch,
Like dark tendrils of despair and sorrow.
The possibilities of an alternate life flood your thoughts
And you cannot fight, you cannot win, you can only give in.
The what ifs, the maybes- they are unforgiving.
Holding your hand always made me feel better,
But not today.
Embracing your strong body always made me feel harboured, safe,
But not today.
It is not enough, so inadequate.
This is a sorrow that cuts deeper than swords.
A grief that claws at the soul like hunger that torments a lonely child.