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| PIC: The New Yorker |
poetry by Lilly Rue
The darkness that surrounds me
The black hole that consumes me
My emotions that are never made relevant
My pain that is always over looked
I wanted to smile and be carefree
I too wanted to be a sociably approachable person
Why couldn't my hurt be understood
Why was my pain made irrelevant
My bleeding heart that was ignored
I too wanted to be heard
I too wanted to be comforted
I longed for that validity
Just for that, 'I see you, l hear you, l love you, its going to be okay, l got you!'
Sadly my voice got lost in the sociable crowd
I can't say l am okay or l will be okay
I can't say l let it go
Its still there with me
Deep down, hidden away from the crowd
With a proud perfect posture and a happy smile
I learnt to keep my inner voice hidden
I made peace with my demons: they embrace me in my sleep
With everything and anything l learnt to smile through it all
You should have heard me the first time l screamed out loud
Sadly l will never speak out again
I am okay with that
I will be okay
I might not heal
I might not get over it
But l will be okay
I shall keep on laughing till l believe it
I shall smile till it radiates inner acceptance…
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