Hurting

Pain
Relentless
Dull aching throb
Seemingly incurable

To be a nurturer
With no one to nurture
No one of significance to care

Stabbed repeatedly
By a wicked angry dagger
All life force seeps out of me
Feeling so worthless and scorned

But a shell of fragile ego
So very vulnerable and ignored
Here I am begging for a reprieve

Monopoly on Pain

He looked me in the face, feeling all proud of himself and said, “I feel like I have a monopoly on pain. Unless you went through what I went through you have no idea what real pain is.”

I just looked at him, meeting his intense gaze, and I made some textbook comment like, “Wow, I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you,” not wanting to invalidate all that he’d been through. But, seriously, how ignorant can one be?

Each person experiences pain differently. What might hurt you might not hurt me. What hurts me, may not affect you in the same way. You might not think something I struggle with is a big deal, but it can pain me the same amount something more significant, in your eyes, hurts you. I may never have gone through what he went through, what seemed like unnatural, idiopathic suffering, I may not have been able to battle through what he had to, but I’ve had my own challenges, I’ve experienced my own pain, in a very real way.

Everyone has something. No one’s life is a walk in the park. We all just have different capabilities, different capacities, to deal with challenges. Some people successfully live with their hardships though it knocks them in the face every single day. Others have learned to compartmentalize, able to push it deep inside the recesses of their minds, only accessing it when there’s a lesson to draw out. Some crumple and fall apart in the face of challenge, others man up and face it head-on, becoming only stronger for it.

How often though do we use pain as an excuse? Is that ever valid? Sure, it may be a reason, but that’s a whole different animal than an excuse.

Commenting that one has a “monopoly” on pain? That just seems arrogant almost. What kind of trump card is that? Okay, yes, empathy is given for free but respect needs to be earned. I can empathize with him, it hurt, he was in pain. Scratch that, he’s clearly still hurting, he’s in pain even now, but to discount everyone else’s hardships? I’m sorry, I can’t respect that.

Demons

My existence is corroded
I played hard -- my hand's since folded

Memories fill my dreams
Turned nightmares now, everything no longer like it seems

I want to run, I want to hide
Can't escape, this beast's inside

You need just look through my eyes
That's where this demon lies

I dug my own grave
Through that masquerade

I got too close
I thought it harmed us both

But while I await my next curtain call
Looks like you've got it all

I need to let you go
Counter punch this nasty blow

You replaced me in a flash
It's left an ugly gash

I don't want to be mad at you
But the pain's too difficult to be rational through

You moved on, I know
I need to let you go

You never needed me
Just any girl and you were free

Too invested in us
Now left to wait for my bus

Gray

The world is kind of gray today. There's dirty snow covering every exposed edifice, and the street is slate-gray, caked with dried salt. I think there might be a sun shining through the clouds, but my tinted glasses block the glow.

Nothing seems to be going for me this week. My mood matches the world with it's color zapped out. I feel like a hamster running on a wheel, exerting energy but going nowhere. I don't know how to get off or where to go. Slowly, everything is crumpling around me. It's all kind of just one gray blob.

My patience has all but gone, and I'm at the end of my rope. I knot the rope's end as to be able to continue holding on, but my hands are blistering and bleeding. I don't know how much longer I can hold out.