Pain isn’t meant to be held in your arms;
Not meant to turn your palms red with cuts;
Not meant to puncture your heart.
And yet you let pain live within you. . .
I cannot forever be your medicine -
I am the morphine.
Not the cure.
Let your wounds heal. Let the hurt escape.
You must rest.
Bearing your life in a plastic bag that has a tear -
It could leak any second.
And yet, we can find no thread to mend it.
I will not let you spill onto the pavement
But sometimes I feel my fingers slipping
And wonder if I’ve grown too tired to care.
Replace your broken boards. Let the hurt escape.
You must rest.
Every ticking second is precious;
Every moment and memory is alive.
Your life, the one I know you cannot love or hate, is fading
And brightening, surging and flickering.
But what will I do when the blackout comes?
Recharge yourself. Let the hurt escape.
You must rest.
By Alexander, 10th grade
submitted to the Edgar Allan Poe exercise at Totally Optional Prompts
[Photo by SpoiltCat via Flickr]
Comments
Incredibly fine piece of work!
Wow – powerful stuff! The repetition of “let the hurt escape” works beautifully – just the way that, when reassuring someone, you end up keep saying the same soothing words until they are able to listen. Good work, Alexander!
Very powerful post!
powdered charcoal
The quality of this piece is excellent.
This is excellent, specially the line ‘I am the morphine. / Not the cure’