When The Pain Is Too Great

I need to get the words out. It just feels like the harder I try to reach some goal, to heal, the further from it I get. My therapist calls it my depression voice, but it’s so much deeper than that. It’s a constant ache in my chest, a sick feeling in my stomach, trauma playing on repeat in my head. How is someone supposed to live with that? Everything feels like a lie. I don’t want to keep doing this. I keep trying, pushing, hoping that things will get better. These scars run so damn deep, I don’t think I can make anything better. The only person whose voice alone could make everything seem ok, is gone forever. In that absence is only pain. All I feel is pain on repeat, its torture. My mask is so on point you would never tell by seeing me, and I wish I could rip that goddamn thing off. Show my pain, show my demons, but I’m afraid and I don’t even know why. I have nothing left to lose. My only worth is in what I can do for others, I don’t even know how to live for me. There is no more me, I’m too covered in scars that won’t heal. I wish I could go back in time and hug that little girl, tell her she does matter, but that she’s going to grow up and finally understand that she doesn’t matter to others, so please, PLEASE, cut deeper when you’re 22. You’re only going to live for others, never for yourself. Stop the pain then, before there was anyone else to care about. To cause pain too. To lose. To mourn. To feel hollow.

Wake Up ~ Coleman Lane