They say that pain is only temporary.
Perhaps that's true in the physical sense.
Cuts stop bleeding; burns stop burning.
My stomach will eventually stop twisting when I think about it.
I'll become numb. I'll be dehumanized.
It happens to the best of us from time to time.
It will become methodical.
My wrist will hurt from the writing, but that won't last.
The physical pain will end, but will it stop the thinking?
The mental ache that follows day after day?
The internal sting that accompanies any social interaction?
The cognitive exhaustion from trying too hard to appear normal?
Who am I to test it?
Who am I to say that it will end the darkness?
I have no basis for the assumption.
I have no experience with the light to know the difference.
Physical pain dulls with time, but there are moments that stick with me forever.
Embarrassment, rage, and sadness follow me.
I don't remember what it's like to be happy.
I wish I did.
It may not end the pain,
But at least it will end my suffering.
I may exist in utter solitude and sadness,
But my efforts will be over and I will fade away.
That's all I want.
I want my memory to fade from those around me.
I want them to forget I ever existed,
Because then I may not leave them in
Agony.
<M.L. Topinka>
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryHere's a collection of all of the poems I've written!!! If a poem is not mine, I will say so. So don't worry, everything is mine unless said otherwise. I'm not a thief. There may also be some short stories here and there if I write a story and it is...
