The loudest screams are the ones-
never really heard out loud.
Muffled,
and withered on pillowcases-
alone.
Buried within,
Tight knots-
like stones in your throat,
that ache.
Whose weariness eventually reaches
your chest-
Aching.
Pounding.
Unexplained.
Sometimes, pre-wake up, wake up 10 march 7.30-ish am.
Tried to remember from memory and recreate at a much later hour in the day post-work.
You tell me that
it doesn’t matter
you seldom think about it
and you’ve moved on…
But that’s just another strike,
a proof of my plight
bringing back memories of the time spent buckling down
cradled by myself
like a child;
bleeding through the wounds that couldn’t be seen through the eyes
gritting my teeth
trying to just be able to breathe
night after night
just to survive.
You say that you don’t
think about it all
Because that’s your privilege
No accountability
or consequences in sight
Like a mockery of my plight.
No justice in sight
But one day I will rise-
from these shackles with my might.
For one day things will come together
And I’ll be living instead of just surviving my life.
21 Feb
3:41 pm
It’s been a while since I’ve made friends with winter,
For the chilled winds-
That feel like cuts on your face,
The frosty winds-
That swell your hands red,
The icy winds-
That make you physically ache,
The frigid winds-
That cause you discomfort,
Work perfectly in tandem with that throbbing sensation within-
Fear, agony, muffled screams, a heavy weight…
Or echoes of memories that reek of cruel words-
Carving scars in your mind and stabbing daggers in your soul
And just for a while there seems to be a balance-
On the outside with what lies within,
As you walk through the cold.
There’s a gaping hole
In my soul.
I no longer merely want to
decorate my house. But
create a home. With
not just things but someone I love.
And, who loves me back. In a way
that fills the cracks in my heart.
There’s no agony.
No more pain.
No reminders of
the bruises of the past.
anonim0us 