You are wild. I would know.
You run like the wind. I do know.
You are brave, I have seen you
Believe me I know you have courage
You are marvellous.
You are the beauty of the nature.
I have seen it. I have seen it all.
So what if the wicked stays in the shadow
And the lying plays a game or two
You are not made of that.
You are the better kind.
The better race of the better mind.
Someone lied to me so much. So very much that if they were near me and the air they breathed came around me, I would die because my body wouldn’t believe it was the air anymore.
Like a glass shard pierced through you
And pained the unmovable hand
Bleeding right through the bandages
And you couldn’t think of anything else
The agony shot in your nerves
And the apathy of the breeze abound
The gaping flesh wound disappearing
And only the feeling left behind.
Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.
Don’t talk about it. Quit thinking about it. One day, it’ll make you look back and think “this, THIS was bothering me?”
And does anyone ever tell us to shut up about our problems?
They sympathise. Let us wallow in our misery and even encourage a little rant.
But is that the best for us?
I don’t think so.
Sometimes it’s better to shut up and suck it up.
Take a step forward. Keep moving. Not looking back, reminding ourselves of the misery and pain of what hurt us.
I am still learning how it works. Maybe I’ll forget I had a pain point ever. Maybe I won’t. But is it worth a try? Why not? What have we achieved by endless rants and useless validation?
We don’t need that.
At least I hope we don’t because forgetting pain while reminding ourselves of it seems like a paradox not worth testing.
So stop. Quit talking about it. Quit it. Its bad. One day, you’ll forget it.