this is going to hurt

No one ever said

“This is going to hurt.”

but then no one ever admits these things,

as if claiming pain is a sign of weakness,

we’ve all bought into the mentality that

it’s not so bad when it’s over.

But what if the pain you’re going through

lasts longer than a bee sting?

And what if it chooses to scar, rather to bruise?

Deep in the soft tissues of the heart

an internal breaking that no cast

will ever fit.


Not a day goes by when I don’t miss you,

and I’ve stopped counting the days

because I know now tomorrow doesn’t make anything better.

Tomorrow just means that’s one less set

of wretched 24 hour intervals

I’ve spent

pretending it’s okay.

I’m okay, without you.


The End

0 comments about this poem Feed