Wednesday, June 01, 2011
How can something so invisible hurt so much?
What the world doesn't see and know are the amount of times you are under the covers or beneath your desk crying from this invisible, very-present pain.
Everything is shrouded in a deep cool blue or black or bloody purple. Nothing is pastel or warm.
Nothing brings solace.
Talking to someone makes you cry, as do lyrics of music you listen to 'for distraction'. Hugs are just not enough to squeeze away the pain.
And it is invisible, spirit in the night, an intimate stranger that only you know oh too well. A pain that knows no source and knows very little end too often.