They ask, where does it hurt?
You exhale, disconsolately.
Well, you see…
It’s your head; it throbs as thoughts consume you.
Replaying conversations,
Regretting what you did say,
contemplating what you should have said.
It’s your stomach; it’s always in knots.
Unexplained nausea, intense stomach pains, uneasiness.
It’s your bones;
they ache to remind you you’re weak.
It’s your chest;
it feels like a weight is crushing it,
making it burdensome to breathe.
It’s like waking up from a nightmare;
You can’t recall the details,
But that fear lingers, thickening the air around you.
It’s your eyes;
They’re swollen, puffy, red
From the tears, from the restless nights.
It’s the lack of purpose;
Like you’re just existing, not living
Each day is an endless loop and you can’t get out.
It’s the water drowning you;
You’re struggling to stay afloat.
It’s the inability to nurse your wounds;
Because you can’t bandage up something inside of you.
It’s your worst enemy;
Nesting inside you and you can’t run away.
It’s your lack of control;
Never knowing who you truly are.
It’s the loneliness that engulfs you;
Regardless of the number of people around you.
So where does it hurt, you ask?
Where doesn’t it hurt?
