Invisible wounds

Misunderstood.
It cuts deeply.
You only know it, if you've lived it.

A right of passage.
A voyage,
A journey,
Through the forest of fear, anger and uncertainty.

An attack on a vulnerability.
A pain, a darkness, and a void,
Silently humming for help
But not knowing the lyrics.

You can smell it.
Fear does that.
Ask the dog.
Where's the air freshener?
Even Febreeze cannot remove the foul odour.

It hurts.
It wreaks.
It howls in the night like a hungry wolf looking for its prey.

Relief is undeterminable.
Comfort is addiction.
Cure is death.
There are others, but death is easiest.

The flames of pain wait for the world to stop spinning out of control.

Tirelessly,
Sick.

Invisible wounds,
Misunderstood,
Unhealed.
Stick a bandaid over the open wound,
Smile and,
Hope for a better day.
You go on.

Don't pity me.
Don't worry about me.
Don't cry for me.

Mind your own business,
But can you gobble up my problems
And tell me it's going to be ok.

What do you expect?
The poet is tired.
The playwright is sick.
The actor is missing.
The director is drunk.
Yet the viewer is waiting for the show.

Smile.
The show must go on.
The stench is everywhere.
Only one lives it.
Unfortunately he is drunk, missing, sick and tired.

There's a light.
It's dim.
But it gets brighter
If you look long enough,
Through the clouds of uncertainty,
You can breathe.
One moment at a time.
Until the cut heals to a scar.
And becomes a distant memory in a world filled with fear, anger, uncertainty,
And love.