Like separating the wind from the air,
Or dividing the light from the day,
Deny, deny that these feelings are here,
Keep trying to will them to go away.
Like tearing apart green from grass,
As if you could separate the two,
Choose your memories, deny what's passed,
Lie to yourself, though you know the truth.
It's a band-aid to cover a jugular wound,
A rubber raft to cross the ocean wide,
Sustenance begged from imaginary food.
It adds up to living while dying inside.
3 comments:
Wow
That is powerful stuff and know your heart matters
the last line .... dont die inside
Keith
You will find the way...in the end when we hurt it leads to us shutting down inside until the world dims enough that the oft ignored voice inside is finally loud enough to hear...it is usually telling us what we already knew, but that voice that little voice is like having your most trusted friend agree with you.
Well said, thank you.
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