I Hurt Too

Not by the words I said out loud, but by the ones that never made it to air. The ones that have been forced to live in my heart, silent. I hurt by the amazing ability of another soul to torment with unsung thoughts. I look not to your weaknesses but to my own frailty and flaws. I hurt by the motionless present and by the prospect of a future so still. I hurt not by your careless ways, but my own uncertainty. Clinging to doubt as if that was the only answer, wishing with every fibre in my body for something certain. I lose my footing and see myself tangled in the words you’ve said out loud to me. The ones I cared to hear.

I hurt by time. By time’s reckless rummaging through the memories. Those instances that are only apparent in the faded corners of their frames. I could cry I hurt so much. By my own choices and foolish mistakes. I cringe at the thought that I could have chosen better, done better, preformed better, loved better, missed better. When night comes to take over from the everlasting powers of the day, my heart starts to beat louder. My limbs move slower. My soul whispers and I listen. The burden of a life, the burden of an empty and meaningless life comes to haunt every single soul on this earth. Then we lie, curl up to the smallest we can be and wish that moment away. I wish it away on most nights, but tonight I admit that I hurt. Not by the words you have said out loud to me, but by the ones that never made it to my heart. I hurt by the silence that I see around me. I hurt by the rhythmless melodies and by the melodiesless rhythms. I mostly fail when I try and the days haunt me.

I hurt when I see the one who sings to me insincere. I break then. I break to shatter to a million pieces but at the end of the gentle cooing I emerge as a grand statue, not a crack, not a sign of brokenness. The face hides the darkest secrets masterfully. I am me and I hurt. Most days I will not let you see, but most days I hurt. I know that most days you hurt too. I know that every heart that has never found its way to you causes you pain. I know that uncertainty hurts you. I know that you are maimed by the thought of failure. I know that you are paralysed by self doubt. I know that you hurt just from the simple burden of a few short hours of the day. When the sun hides, when the birds stay silent. When the one who should care only turns away to never show a look of concern. I know that your heart would not beat if it never hurt. I know the streets could not greet you if they knew you were unable to hurt. The power to change can be painful, can be remarkably free.

I see chance in every morning but by night know that every hour since then breathed to hurt me. I awake with newfound bravery. I show it to you, you show it to me. Together we fight the hurt that will come and conquer, make us stronger, make us live better, make us love much, much more than we ever knew we could.

While I hurt and while you hurt, while we all hurt a little, there is a chance that we are just learning to take care of each other a little better.