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Can you see my eyes, the way they evenly are red?
Puffed and slightly tearful still. Did you know it made me
tired to walk out of an empty room again, pretending to just
find something that was in my hand. Well I guess I've never lied,
I truly lost something every time you didn't  notice my breath was choking me. It's so hard to focus with shaking hands and detached eyes. I feel defeated every night I sleep. Maybe I'm over dramatic, maybe I just make things worse purposely. But you telling me I have no problems? That, my friend, hurts the most-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
tallene May 2018
It wasn't until my physical pain
met my mental pain
that I knew I had to surrender.
I wanted to remember,
so they finally crossed paths
shaking hands with
another
as my body was a bloodbath
turning to scarlet color.
Glossing, my eyes
poured out the lies
as I started to cry,
I couldn't resist the fight
of my fist
to speak of this.
I know I know,
I know.
Once again I had let go of
you
you
& you.
And my mental pain said goodbye
to my physical pain
and so did you & I.
Stella Mar 2018
Whenever I say something you ignore me
Whenever I do something you hurt me
Whenever I think something you yell at me
I have had enough
If you don’t like how I am then leave
I do things how I want
If you don’t approve
I don’t care
I do what I want
You say that you care
But actions speak louder than words
You of all people should know that
Your the one that drilled it in me
So quit yelling
Quit hitting
Quit hurting me
Even if you don’t see,
I need you to know
How much you hurt me
Every time you yell
Hit
Hurt
I just can’t take anymore
I’m sorry
But it’s true
Whenever you yell,
I flinch
Whenever you ignore me
My spirit deflates
Whenever you hit
I take it
But it HURTS that you would hurt me
And I don’t know what to do now
Yeah, I tried. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
Here I am bleeding again
Taken aback by mortal fear
                     Staring at faith
                   Staged by hope
Pouring rain on visceral cage–
               The sound of deep
                       Calling to deep.

Repressed feelings buried by time
Epitaph reads on the forgotten grave

"Here lies the child now grown
  His hopes and dreams
       Dashed to pieces.
  This is where the child died."

I often hear the Mystic Keeper
        Calling from night
And tradition calling from artificial light

As I run through scorched barren
                          Fields of doubt

Walking barefoot over these coals
    Crouching low
                   To hide my eyes

As I run    
         And as I hide    
  From what has already been revealed--
The tombstone says it all.

When I am out on the water
Lost in the Channel fog
I often see fleeting glimpses of
                     White cliffs of hope
Shining on the edge of Melancholy Sea--  
     But they turn out to be just
Withered white
       Seeds of religious platitudes.

        And then there is the ready reflection
Of the looking glass
        That often tricks the beholder
For in it truth is not seen
What is seen is graffiti of soul
       Hiding the crumbling
                         Cracks of age–

The threshold where
         Sanity meets its end.

Isolation has become
       A shining steel blade
Cutting deep
                    Into the heart of hearts

Nothing lives after amputation
Depending on emotional prosthetics--
Phantom pain
                  When nothing is there.

But in the midst of these devastations
I am learning to take

     Howbeit reluctantly

The hand of trust and grace
And to allow
                        Hope to build
      A fortress for dreams…
Set boundaries better
       Than no control at all.

               --Daniel Irwin Tucker
This piece was written at a time when I experienced a dibillatating physical illness which still affects me today  (not physical amputation btw).
But pain, caused by self-inflicted or extraneous traumatic experiences such as myriad forms of assault and losing or cutting off people or things in our lives, can be severely felt as a type of phantom pain. This, of course is a universal aspect of the human condition.

— The End —