Life is Hard


I consume my sadness whole, trying to fill this hole

but this unholy bread will not satisfy, Devil’s cake

and so I swallow more and grind away my troubles.

I choke it down with the tears I refuse to shed

trying to drown the gnawing sensation in my gut.

My teeth rip into my misery and tear it up

into smaller bite sized portions and for a moment,

I can swallow past the lump in my throat.

But the mirror mirrors my madness and shows me

that I have only multiplied the rootless grief

and so I gorge myself on the forgotten memories

of pleasure until my stomach threatens to rupture

because if I get enough I can suffocate my pain.


I create ancient pain paintings along my arms,

scarring my skin like early man scarred cave walls

with blood, telling the story of the hunt for life.

I in script my search on my arms in jagged lines

each detailing the missing link that eludes my grasp

and so I reach down in myself to expose

the ugliness that is trapped within my skin.

I write songs of survival across my growing canvas

silent witness that demand you to listen

but somehow you are blind and cannot see me.

So I continue to write because my mouth is sealed.


I struggle, endlessly struggle to find the silver lining.

Forgetting that sunshine can only come from within.

So I cast of my shell, and suddenly I am shining.

Somehow whole, rested and perfect, without sin.


4 thoughts on “Life is Hard

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