EXIT WOUND

CATEGORY

life

These memories are broken, fear and anxiety rot into the open wounds on my body. Trying to cross back over a bridge that has been broken in two. I have no idea what comes next or how to put one foot in front of the other and simply......walk. I have been trying to heal from a wound that was cut so deep that there may not be an exit. I keep trying to find me but I am lost in the process, and I keep trying to heal me , but I don't know where to begin. So I run and I push away anything or anyone that is trying to be close to me. Emptying the contents of myself to a stranger is horrifying, so I keep the pain bound tightly to myself so that I won't be caught being vulnerable protecting it from the outside world, putting a dollar store bandaid over a double barrel shotgun wound to my chest and practicing the words "i'm fine" like my own inauguration speech to a world that has scarred me so badly. So I pour my soul out on paper and bleed black ink onto it's lines and the smile behind my teeth is really a frown revealed only behind my eyes, which were once optimistic and filled with hope. As my heart lies to my brain swallowing the words into my being, nothing is meant to last forever like it is the last meal that I will ever eat. I am hurt and the pain of a broken heart is like glass shattering against pavement cutting my feet with each step, and there are no exit wounds for this type of pain which only brings apprehension and and exhaustion for love and anything in it's way. I want to break every heart that I've never known and fall asleep in guilt ridden sheets. Because the garments that I have been wearing have been stained with tears and blood and I no longer have room for love, so love I shut you out like a disease and banish you from my life because that is exactly what you are, a disease that rots flesh and bones from cuts that wont heal. There are no exit wounds for your pain, they don't exist, there is no relief. I wanted to be so many things but now they are lost and I am on an emotional overload with no comfort for the pain. So I pretend that I am fine so that the world can no longer bruise me and I claim that I am strong so that I can stop being so broken, while feeling so weak and fragile from this open wound with no exit. There is no outlet to drain the pain and nothing to distract me from the the burns on my heart, this seems impossible to fix and impossible to ever feel the same because all of the pain is trapped inside of me and stained onto my heart branded like a scarlet letter that is wasting away into the breeze. The words to describe this seem never ending and I am petrified at the thought of feeling this way again. I am not looking to be rescued but relieved. I want this pain to find an exit but it seems so impossible and I am trying so hard to pull myself out of a black hole that I have been drowning in for years but I can't get up and I can't breath and all if these wounds that I have are cut so deep that the weapons used may still be lodged inside of me and the fresh wounds on my heart are scarring over the top of old pain and the memories are like thunder cracking into my bones like a freight train at full speed. There are no exit wounds for this type of pain. There is only smoke and mirrors with old wounds staring back at you in the reflection that hide the truth behind the fraud of a smile that dares to show up on my face because I am trapped here and there is no exit.