This is a short fictional piece on pain that I wrote some time ago to exercise my writing muscles, so to speak.
Silent hurt
Anna cries inside now; she has wept all that was left to weep. Teardrops that once spilled over her lower eyelids to travel downward over the contours on her cheeks, are no more. She holds emptiness within, strangely akin to the empty crockery vessel cupped in her hands that she is
mindlessly staring into. Ironically, an emotional waterfall is overflowing beneath the surface. She is in pain, oh so much pain.
How could this be? How could this happen yet again? Her head filled with thoughts such as these, competing for their place in the forefront of her mind. Stop! Go away! I don’t want to think anymore! I don’t want to cry anymore! Leave me be!
Her screams of protest are silent; they don’t even fall on deaf ears. For there is no-one to hear her, no-one to see the agonizing turmoil her entire body is a prisoner of. She begs for the curtains of darkness to arrive so that she can slip into the unconsciousness of sleep. She wants to stay there and only awaken when the pain has run its course and no longer hurts so bad.
Take the pain away
So many years she has carried grief. No sooner does it begin to subside and there is a sense she will be a little free, than another dose lands in her lap. It weighs heavy on her for a time as she feels the loss so deeply; much deeper than others, she believes. Will the day ever come when she can just be, without the taunts reminding her of what is missing from her world?
This is a destination she no longer wishes to visit but how can she change what is beyond her control? She can’t and deep at her core, she knows it to be true. What has to be done is to step outside of this, outside of herself,outside of her head. She needs to break free and create a new picture in front of her eyes. A new belief must accompany this too; probably many new beliefs in actual fact, if she was to think long and hard about it all. Sometimes she simply does not have any energy left to do so.
Time heals
Time is always the great healer she has been told over and over. With passing hours, days and weeks, it should be easier to bear the pain felt within her being. She wonders if it truly ever goes away or does one just become accustomed to it like any other part of oneself.
When, or will, the day ever come when she has someone stay with her? She often wonders this when the frivolous thoughts occupy her mental space. Especially when she goes about the repetitive moments that make up her days, not unlike a robot, void of emotion. Why would anyone even come into her world as she views herself as an empty vessel cast in a hardening shell with little to offer?
More….
Another piece you may enjoy reading: ‘Empty Cup’
A poem on letting go: ‘Let Them Go’
If this has raised any concerns, please seek support here for ‘Grief and Loss’