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Recovery

A Poem

By Annabelle PidekPublished 7 years ago 2 min read
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Recovery takes time. 

It's not that bad, they'd say

It's not like you felt pain

Not real pain,

it's more like the pain that stung not only your skin but it struck your heart andyour lungs with a constant rhythm

as you gasp longingly for air along, making sure not to lose that rhythm otherwise things might get worse

until it's crawling through your brain causing a rupture in thought and feeling with every touch

No, it's not pain, not real pain

They believe that you have to have proof of the incision that they cut into you

It has to leave a scar

oh but it did leave a scar, but its not on my hand or like that scrape on my knee that you gave me last summer when you though it would be funny to shove me to the ground

this scar is left on my past action and current emotions

and what if you were told what you feel lives in everyone like a virus

yet you get punished with the sickness for being the only one who acknowledges its existence

and it's made itself comfortable in your skin and now calls it home, with no way to get rid of him 'cause he's locked all the windows and bolted all the doors

he's here to stay

and it makes you furious that no one knows how to evict a demon, yet seas are rising within your eyes 'cause you can't find someone to extract this monster

from your stomach

your heart

your lungs, as you gasp for thin air

but then again you choose to let no one in, 'cause your locked within the monster's house

all of your moves are acquiescent and monitored by your demons

you let no one help cause they have made you believe that you aren't in pain, while you are feeling the burn from the fires

that there is nothing wrong , while you're curled in a ball on your satin carpeted floor

so you must recover, from this hurt that has no pain

alone

after those stitches were placed along the incisions made, but they aren't really there, no one else sees the staples

they can't see them

you try to believe that they aren't really there, but your emotions take over

and it's hard, to be alone

but you can't let them know, they'll never believe you anyways

they never believed you were in pain, not real pain

yet you still feel the sting as they say

it's not that bad

I mean you have nothing to recover from

sad poetry
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