Wednesday 30 November 2011

Hurt.


What hurts the most is when  you feel unneeded.
When the world still turns, though you stand still.
When you cry, only to be surrounded by silence.
When you speak and your voice echoes all alone.

What hurts the worst is when you’re broken
And you can’t feel the hurt.
When you've blocked yourself from all joy and sorrow,
And nothing can penetrate your wall.

What hurts is when you know you are helpless
To help the ones you love.
Hatred brews from the sadness and anger.
Bottled, left to ferment.

You step into comatose, numb to everything;
Wondering whether or not to even be part of the scene.
You want not to take the path needed.
And yet, you want the same.

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