I find it hard to express
Express what I feel
The rhythms of my pain
And the tune of my heart strings.
I fail to convey, to express.
I fail, miserably.
Lonesome, angry and disappointed,
I keep things to me, myself.
Point, what is the point?
There is none. There is none.
Love, like a sea of waves,
Crushes and disappears,
Leaving a scar,
And a beach behind.
Point, what is the point?
Of it all, of the pain, the enduring,
The misery, the longing?
The desire, the change,
The effort, the thought.
The belief, the faith, the trust.
Nothing seems to be enough.
Nothing seems to work.
All is in vain, everything.
Do I stop? Does it still rain?
Yes, it does. Rain batters down,
Hammers it home,
While misery stays,
The waves disappear,
Love remains.
Alone, misunderstood,
Under a dark cloud.
Nature, it is merciless.
Mind, thought, reactions, words.
All of it. Merciless.
And that’s that.
And I am me.
With my pain,
And belonging.
Efforts seep in,
But the leaves are rotting.
Like an unsaid prayer,
Already left unanswered.
Unattended, battered.
Words, they leave my mouth,
To come back, sad.
The journey was long,
And hard. And incomplete.
They gave up,
Their strength is gone,
Frail and empty,
They come back.
No complaints, no anger,
Only despair, disguised as hunger.
The rain, the sea, the waves,
Countless.
Yet the thirst remains.
In its shell, muddied by its intensity.
Insatiable, unchangeable.
Impossible. But real.