All of us carry so much pain within us... They stick to our
psyche, the shallow pains like cotton flakes, but the deeper searing pains,
even after its all over, like a constant burr to our side. These burrs leave a
seed of discontent on us, and they slowly grow into mighty oaks, splitting us
apart at times. Do we nourish these
seeds with our thoughts and our feelings, water them with our salty tears and
then pretend to smile at the world, not letting the world know the wounds these
thorns leave on us?
We heal - at least, we try to heal and move on - the catharsis happens, but does the wound
heal ever? The pain of the event is spoken about, discussed, expected responses
are submitted. But one is so alone in the journey of the psyche. The soma is supported but the psyche comes
and goes alone. We all seek a hand to
hold but reach out to empty air.
The
sound of pain: so heart-wrenching, the color: so dark and grey.
We use our senses to describe and personalize
pain, but words fail me when i need to tell people about my pain. Do we need to
be verbose about pain? Do we need to
verbalise to heal? Or is it enough to
feel to heal? my tongue feels thick and
salty... Yet pain has no taste... Its just raw....
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