In this dark place,
Invisible vines wrap around your throat,
As your entire world is suddenly plunged
Into a darkness so silent that
It echoes through your chest like a
Quiet Earthquake.
In this dark place,
You can't hear above
The roaring silence in your head
And your heart.
Here there's a darkness so complete that you can't
Even see how shattered you are.
In this dark place,
Your demons are the only voices
You hear above the silence,
Demons of your own making.
Demons that scream because they've felt pain,
Demons that scream to be healed.
In this dark place,
You become so desperate to be free that
Even your bones become tired
From the everlasting noise that never quiets and
Demands to be freed from this hell your mind has made.
In this dark place,
Your worst fears suddenly become moot
Because the dark inside renders
Life as a past time
And death a sweet release
Because at least then it would be
Quiet.
In this dark place,
Every part of you is hurting from your
Shattered glass pieces that cloud
Your eye's window of all the love and light
That you used to see.
In this dark place,
The only thing that can heal you is
The light of sunrise when you finally
Realize that the monster-like shadows
Were just broken trees.
In this dark place,
You need a fire burn off the debris
That keeps your eyes sewn shut,
And you need a fire to heal your
Wailing demons.
In this dark place,
Only when you see with clarity can
You heal your demons and
Regrow from the scars your hear left when it
Shattered and
Learn how to heal your
Festering wounds.
In this dark place,
Once you find light again,
You can learn how to live.
You can finally see.
You can eventually heal.
In this dark place,
There is still light.
1/5/2018
A poem about when you're broken, this is not the end.
