Pain and Rain

 

It's getting harder to see past the pain.

To smile through the thunder and rain.

Outside she is a shell. 

 

 

Her voice sweet as a bell.

No one could guess the true mess.

That she feels like an unwelcomed guest.

Though they say she ins't walking alone.

 

 

She is hurting real bad out here on her own.

At night she cries.

Until her voice is hiccup sighs.

Inside she is shattering.

 

The call of ending it all is almost battering.

Seared into her flesh are silent scars that beg for more relatives.

"No," She screams; the damnation of darkness offers no alternatives.

To be fair she reaches for a hand of salvation.

 

 

Groping blindly in a hopeful hallucination.

That someone will catch her before she falls.

But she is left feeling terrifingly small.

Alone, with a pain that is all consuming.

 

She knows she can't continue towards what is looming.

An empty death while still breathing.

She is drowning in sorrows that are accumlating.

So she falls to her knees.

 

 

Hot water stings her back like angry bees.

Tears stream down her face.

As she hides in the bathroom of this place.

Waiting for the wave to end.

 

 

If only a warm embrace of realness one could lend.

Perhaps she'd drop the object that numbs.

And she wouldn't run towards the wheel to prick her thumb.

So that she could forever sleep away the pain.

Since the true knight surely drowned in the rain.

 

 

She closes her eyes now.

The pain is buried now.

She shuts out the world now.

Puts up a facade now.

To force the smile now.

Fool them she will now.

Make them believe she is okay now.

Despite how dead inside she is now.

Even though they have all killed her now.

Still, they won't ever know now.

 

 

How she could bury the pain.

And force herself to dance in the rain.

Despite that outside she is a shell.

With a voice sweet as a bell.

And that inside she is shattering.

With a darkness that is ever battering.

 

Nice... I began smiling when I finished reading the first sentence in the second paragraph [Her voice sweet as a bell.]

Sometimes great prose is disguised as a single phrase.

To leave a comment, please sign in with
or or

Comments (0)