Life inside our minds can hallucinate, we get drunk on trauma and drama when they are consistent, when we have been consistently bent out of shape, everything because normal, every behaviour no matter how ambivalent or toxic, all of it we see it coalescing perfectly with what is considered normal. I just wish crying wasn’t the only outlet to drive out pain, and overmedicating wasn’t the only way to numb the pain in our souls. Being bent, being spiritually bent forces one to be okay with everything, being treated like crap, being taken for granted- you assimilate that behaviour and it becomes a coping mechanism.

My cry for help has always been silent, sitting at the bottom of my shallow despair. When it hurts spiritually, the pain is suffocating, it is hard to tell people where it hurts, but you know it hurts, you feel it every single day, you even pray that your self-harming doesn’t kill you it just kills the pain. The sun feels cold and the moon distant, everything feels like a nightmare wrapped in warm bodies who claim to see you yet are indifferent to your suffering. Somehow you find a way to be okay with that.

I wish I could be a friend to the silent pained, tell them I too am here, i am rooting for their healing, i will be a torch to their darkness, that hurting is the best way to let go of the pain. I wish I could send messages through the wind, to carry to those silent heartbeats, to say, “i am different, i have been bent, broken and learning to mend myself, i love you and i am here for you.”