Pain...

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....