Poetry
I’ve been away for almost a week now, not from the platform, rather from myself. That's a bit difficult to explain. For the few people who knew about my personal journey, this shouldn’t come as a surprise. My body is relearning how to be normal again after a year and fighting me in the process. It’s clearing up, save for the fact that I still can’t stay where the fan or ac is, plus my nasty mental health. Yesterday wasn't a good day, but that isn't what I want to talk about.
I promised myself that this post won't be about me. I only have a few things to say about life from my current point of few.
People are sick in this world. Not just physically. A lot of faces you see everyday are a mess emotionally and psychologically. There’re those who are strong enough to put up a front. They smile at you and me everyday. They do nice things for other people in spite of their own suffering. They come on the blockchain to make a happy and creative post, but behind all that is a broken person. The lucky ones have loved ones by their side, helping them every step of the way. For the unlucky ones, you wouldn’t want to hear their stories.
Not long ago I read something, shared by someone on my list. The writer explained the anxiety attack she had the previous night which obviously wasn’t the first. For hours it left her bruised. Her fingers were shaking and of course the fear. After reading that, I had no idea what to say. I stared at the words for a very long time before I finally archived. I haven’t visited it. I don’t think I have enough strength to just yet. I didn’t know her but I hoped she got all the help and love she needed. That might be just enough.
Few months back, I read something from someone I consider a close acquaintance. Again, the pain was glaring. Again, I found no words. This is probably the same with a lot of people. We can’t find the words because it’s so true it makes us shiver. I’ve been there to know.
That doesn’t make it alright though. We have to search harder, look deeper till we find them. Two words, three, a sentence, two sentences. Those might be just what the person needs to see through another day. If they’re close enough, give a hug. During one of my most delicate periods, there was a time I wanted a hug so badly I didn’t even understand it. Not until the hug came.
I remember a poem I once shared. My darkest days were over then. I was only trying to put everything in words as much as possible, trying to give the images and voices a name. Someone who used to be a friend sent me a message after reading. He was scared for me, scared of the words. He needed to make sure I was okay and until he was convinced, he didn’t let it go.
You never know a person’s story till they tell it to you. For some people, you may never find out if you aren’t paying attention.
we find ourselves and
we equally lose ourselves
in things we do not understand
in feelings we have no name for
we grasp and refuse to let go
because the pain is so familiar
it’s become a part of us
like a brand on our soul
it’s our normal
so we hold on tight
because it’s all we’ve got
because we’re scared of losing it