They don't tell you that your forearms grow heavier or that the pain isn't in your heart but your stomach
They don't tell you how your fingers will struggle to find the ability to type or that your knuckles will ache
They don't tell you how your lack of appetite is because your throat feels constricted
They don't tell you all the ways despair reveals himself to you
How he sits in your room watching movies convincing you that this is how to heal
How he sits on your hands while you struggle to sit up without them
How he wipes your tears and insists that there is no future without him
They don't tell you how you'll believe him
Because for just a moment you do
They don't tell you that if you're not paying attention you'll miss hope
They don't tell you that she arrived at the same time as despair and that it was you who turned away
They don't tell you about how her hand was always stretched out towards you
How she listened to your cries while you watched movies with despair
How she strengthens your legs and enables you to keep moving
How she begs you to cry more while she insists that there is no future without me
They don't tell you how you won't believe her
Because just for a moment you won't
But I will be the one to tell you
Who you should store your faith in
YOU ARE READING
Talking Tree (Ongoing)
PoetryOne time I was listening to a lecture by a wise man who told me that if I had no one to talk to I should talk to a tree. So here I am.
