The speaker of Pain

I honestly think you should read this. Read and comprehend.

Read and feel, read and reminisce so that your compassion can be reborn and room to receive.

When they say I won’t complain.

Think for a moment what that really means.

It is to the outsider to not get involve. However desiring to be heard.

It is to say I have no ear to hear or shoulder to cry on so I bottle in my pain, guilt, failure, self doubt, and fault within myself. You shall never understand, So keep living this life of glamour because from where I am standing you never been hurt like I been hurt.

It is to say you are too young, inexperienced, dimwitted, and or blind to follow my trials tales. Nice try through but to not ruin your lovely day.

You wouldn’t believe me! If I told you. For my woes tale are on the outside of your pretty picture of a fence you live in.

It would do me no good, no one wants to hear it anyway.

You don’t give a damn. Because efforts to care would not be something your capable of.

Oh but how we shelter pain, and harvest hurt of the past, the what ifs, and the what should never have happen, like a woman trying to push back period flow and think of it no more. How foul! How disgusting the scars of rape torment is as an aching child for at the time knew not exactly what was taken.

Power to pain! Power to illusion! Power to ignorance! Power to lies.

I didn’t know said in a whisper. I wouldn’t know said speech. I couldn’t know yelled in a scream.

It would do me no good to complain.

But oh how the heart wanted to be free of the terrors of night. Longing for love that existed only in movies for told with such magic to move mountains. Books that kept the heart’s mind baffled.

How the heart long for the companionship of understanding not for self pity but merely to not be shut up and out.

Pain is a part of life. We all been hurt. We all been raped. We all had things taken from us so why do we find comfort in drinking to not feel? Going to places like bars for fights for kicks. Having sex with empty promises to the one of never knowing love. Attending parties where people with people who would love nothing better than to see you fail, or better yet wallow in self pity and not mature.

There has got to be a better way!

There has got to be a healing in a place of serenity for hope!

Hope isn’t in pills to cover the wounds it can’t be. Nor in the slicing of the wrist to bleed out the poison of not being good enough. Nor in the bottom of the 99bottles of beer on the wall through who would have thunk it! Nor in the amount of followers on Facebook, twitter, or messenger. Nor in the lack of money one makes. Nor in loving the person that seem to never have eyes for one.

For Jesus said I am the way the truth and the light. No man cometh to the Father but by me. Honestly I know no other answer than this.

If I took your ear to complain it was just to get off my chest dear friend to cease the rage upon a moment that rattled me to stir hate of my fellow men. I confined in you so that with you, we may burn hate together and hurt a little less as one.

So have mercy on me for wondering if I shared a little of myself will you cast me out in its many forms, or will you welcome me in, cause I need a hug. Not a stab in the back but I got your back and help me off these damn bloody knees. May I have some tea?

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