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The Broken

When life wears you down

By Sheara KerryPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
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Image by jan mesaros from Pixabay https://pixabay.com/photos/broken-glass-sun-clouds-shattered-549087/

It slithers under your skin and takes hold of your nervous system, THE QUESTIONS, THE DOUBTS, they torment, they scream. The sounds of claws clawing down your spine as you try to tune it out with a smile or a song. The monsters within that take hold of each and every one of us. That thorny bush that grows tighter and thicker around your heart that bleeds, as your heart constantly tries to heal itself but the new thorns won't allow it it, like whips upon ones souls, they continuously strike upon you, casting a shadow of insecurity that leaves your eyes darkened to light and ears deafened by sound, and your moth, your mouth that shouts and screams in such loud silence.

It is the poisonous venom, that penetrates your skin and rests upon your lips, a little sip every second of the day. It courses through your veins one with your blood, it fuses with your saliva, and burns like acid through your sweat and tears.

It is a hurts like a thousand shards each one sharper than the next, these are the daemons that haunt you, these are the demons of regret, remorse, every person that has lied to you. hurt you, concealed from you, cheated and deceived you. this is the pain that accumulates, makes you weary and the world becomes a dark twisted place.

Every glimpse of hope shot down by another bullet of pain and broken dreams, yet you still try to squeeze a smile through the toxic fog of despair and your insides still burn like the gates of hell from every past stab that you never get to heal from.

You try to fly, you try to mend others wings so you can fly together but find the hand you hold is the one that shoots you down, and ever attempt to make things better, make others happy seems to blow up in your face and you don't know how to fix it and you keep trying to reach the like but your hand won't fit through the broken glass window.

You find people think you are acting the victim, playing some sort of game, trying to get attention, when the reality is you don't want the attention, you want the least attention from the least amount of people cause you fear that the more people you let in, the more you give power to hurt you.

The silence of others, and how the silence burns, every word that the people you love and do your best to trust do not say, the words unspoken, the communication extinct like a pre-historic creature, it tears away at you, leaving you to try to guess as the demons, they run wild through your brain gnawing at every doubt and insecurity, causing constant fear and it terrifies you of why they won't just talk to you, a silent torture akin to that of water torture, a constant drop that drives you mad and leads you to desperation, something so easy to fix with just a few words that are withheld from you like prisoners to your sanity.

These are the consequences of a life of broken promises, broken hearts, broken souls, the sound of shattering glass at every broken relationship, be that with family, friends or partners. These are the breakages that make you harder to love as you brings your walls up like the great wall of China and each time, even the thought of trusting someone starts to make your insides bleed, the thought of letting someone new in makes all the white flags red in flames due to the shear fear of the unknown, like a trauma that no new person could ever erase no matter how good they were, the damage is done, and nothing more is left but the broken.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Sheara Kerry

A daydreamer, mind wondering, thoughts pondering, like the ondulation in the ocean. I doodled, and wrote, pages with a thousand notes. My dreams like sci-fi movies, where the lines of reality and imagination blurr into imPOSSIBLE things.

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