STRUGGLE: John Green

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“Pain demands to be felt,” wrote John Green.

But dearest,

THIS is not what he meant.

Pain is not felt through drugs, sex and self-harm.

Pain is created through these things.

They are a guise for the turmoil beneath.

They say, “Without pain, how can we know joy?”

He said, “The existence of broccoli doesn’t, in any way,

affect the taste of chocolate.”

I don’t think anybody ever told you that,

because then maybe you wouldn’t be where you are

right now.

Sixth hospital visit?

Sweetheart,

this isn’t working.

You can’t mask this internal torture

with chemicals or hide the

damage inside with external scars to match.

It seems like the easiest choice:

a way to avoid facing the fear

building up inside.

The wall has grown so high that you can no longer

see over it.

You no longer care what’s over there.

Here is where the anguish lies.

The greener pastures on the other side

no longer exist in the remnants of your

memory of it.

For all that pertains to you,

the emptiness is all that exists.

Maybe they’ll be able to fix you up

where you’re going.

You’ll come back, seeing just a bit more

of that greener other side

through a hole in that wall,

crumbling.

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Wattpad, darling, why the weird spacing?

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