. . . and I know that there is no one to hear my voice.
I speak and the concepts come out in a foreign tongue that no one can decipher.
I venture an idea but it turns out it is from a different universe where different rules apply.
Am I a displaced person? An emigrant hailing from some other place that even I cannot remember?
It is true: I am made of a different substance than humans. My core hurts more, the ache of loss echoes through me as if I am empty.
I do feel empty.
I wonder what I should fill this vessel with, and then I know: I am already filled with an undulating sadness that no one seems to believe is there.
Be hopeful. Have purpose. Walk swiftly towards your goal. These humans I live among have such immense capacity.
I am a softer creation from a home I can't remember. And there we haven't yet evolved to have shells.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2013
(43)
-
▼
March
(35)
- Today's score is . . .
- I am the hollow of . . .
- I reach . . .
- . . .
- If God can move mountains, cause prison walls to c...
- I am in a place you have never been . . .
- O I try so hard to be hopeful . . .
- Eating chocolate at seven a.m. . . .
- The morning is still . . .
- I wrote about the purple wall . . .
- I write to fill the hole . . .
- Is there a stronger word than crucible . . .
- Who walking these halls is . . .
- There is power in the pronouns . . .
- I look and I can't find what I hope to see . . .
- I am all over the place . . .
- Today I ran to the store for a loaf of bread . . .
- I'm not pretending . . .
- Safety glass keeps the whole together . . .
- I think . . .
- I am selfish in my words . . .
- I sit beneath the mountain . . .
- Once upon a time . . .
- Try as hard as I might . . .
- This afternoon I ponder my blessings and gifts . . .
- I don't know what to pray for . . .
- Lost . . .
- I sit here trying to feel . . .
- Epistle to nowhere . . .
- On your birthday . . .
- What if . . .
- I am the silent . . .
- Once . . .
- To those who are lost . . .
- She wondered . . .
-
▼
March
(35)
2 comments:
Everyone feels unbearable pain; that doesn't make it any easier when it happens individually. You are not different. You are human. To be human is to hurt. Your heart is more open than many people's, so you actually allow yourself to feel your pain, rather than shoving it aside and letting it fester and grow into something worse, hidden behind invisible walls.
You are a human, and loss hurts.
Yes, there is hope. Yes, keep your faith. But it still hurts. Rely on Christ--He has felt this exact feeling, YOUR exact pain. Not something like it, not something similar, but THIS. YOU. RIGHT NOW. It will never stop hurting (if you're anything like me), but the promise is that it will become more bearable.
Other people who look like they don't hurt are really in pain too. Everyone is.
Your tenderness is not weakness, it is a beautiful soul.
Shell. Love this.
Post a Comment