"Time heals all wounds."
But what about the scars?
What about the phantoms?
What about the blue days?
What about the lies of, "I'm fine."?
What about the dreams and thoughts?
What about the awful anxiety?
What about the anger?
And oh God, what about all of the questions?
Why am I so triggered by this sentence?
Four words sounding so pretentious.
Said to calm, but leaving me neglected.
I know it's polite, but I just can't accept it.
Twenty seven years,
I'm reminded day by day,
The doubt and the fears,
Never want to go away,
Ringing in my ears,
Voices always seem to stay,
Sometimes the smoke clears,
But my grief floods the ashtray,
Wounds fade, and scars remain,
Indications that we carry this weight,
Even when the seasons change,
That skin will never feel the same,
So I'll push against the grain,
Finding hope in clocks just sounds insane,
To me, those four words will always seem so inadequate,
"Time heals all wounds.", well, isn't that just quite the bafflement,
Time is nothing but a prescription for pain management.
-D.O.
YOU ARE READING
Through Weathered Eyes
PoesíaThis book will contain poetry, prose, musings, and songs. Throughout a life of consistent chaotic circumstances, one's mind must manipulate mechanically to adapt. These words are what is heard between the creaking of the gears. There is no theme or...
