Just another wound
broken men soldier through life
picking up scars
from broken pasts and broken hearts
but they can’t cry
society does not permit
gravity to touch their tears
it makes them weak
so they sit mute
fading yet failing to disappear
persist in their hollow drama
whispering their pain to the back of their eyes
their dry eyes
and boiling temper
I look at you confused
my broken man
wondering why you won’t release your stress
and trust the security I offer you
my broken man soldiers through life
from a broken past and a broken heart
The silence was engulfing, as the people rushed to euphoria-
The blindfold came off, and she saw the fire she was in.
But the sudden realisation as tears streamed down her rosé cheeks
Was one so clear even though her vision was dim
Her mind opened up in that hour of desperation-
She clung to the sheets on the side of the bed
Because the people had left, but she was still under the influence.
A hazy monster inside her head
And in that hour of need when she felt shaken
Suddenly a presence so close she stopped.
In that hour of need it was so blatant
A God existed, he had not forgot
He had not abandoned her even though she had Him
In fact He was there when she was in pain
And in that hour of need it was clear for her to see
What it means that He is closer to you than your jugular vein
It is difficult
To find a place of warmth and coolness
To find a place of no extremes
Of joy and sadness
Of constraint and release
It is hard
To become a person stuck in two emotions
Confused and determined
Slow yet fast
But I am that person
Who sleeps whilst awake
Who shouts whilst whispering
But the tears are not seen
And the cries are not heard
So the help does not come
One carries on in this purgatory
Watching the world go by through the holy stained glasses
clouded overtime from the mist left by the believing sinners
Yet reminded that God is ever watching
Yet I can’t shake this feeling of being
Feigning joy but in seclusion self-mutilating
Resisting urges to give it all in
Give it all up
To Be Alone.
Telling myself I can’t fight anymore
I can’t pretend
Telling myself you can
One step at a time
But telling no-one else
Then waking in the early hours of dawn
To confess the sins of the night to the Lord
Days’ turned into months’
Holy times came and persisted.
Then they also came to pass,
but the sadness drenched the soul
deeper and deeper.
What is the use in screaming
when no-one is alive themselves?
Yet a war raged on inside
The battles were long and fierce
but the battles were prohibited from leaving scars.
Sometimes people cannot hear your screams
but they’ll see them etched into you and pretend they were listening all along.
How wrong they are.
Faith remains loyal- even when it dwindles, the spark never truly fades
Even when it rains hard there remains a flicker of honesty
A fire of resilience.
And we hold on
Stuck in this dreary place
Moving with time
It is a myth you see
This notion of so-called peace
Because as I sit here
rocking back and forth
It feels like an abattoir, not ease
The windows are blinded
just like our minds
It’s incredible we all cannot see
The blindfolds are binding
it’s hard to describe it
but the metal shines as it is released
It’s obvious now
as I float to the clouds
back to where it is all started
That it’s a myth you see
not a world for the fainthearted
Big thanks to Aisha K. Arif for submitting these beautiful poems. For social media, you can find Aisha on Instagram and Twitter. You can also find her on WordPress and MyTrendingStories. Give some love to Aisha in the comments!
Always remember you are not alone.
You are loved.
Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health? Email firstname.lastname@example.org