Wounds

we’ve all got wounds
the tender places inside that ache and ouch
the places that hurt to touch
and sometimes these wounds are just too much to bear
overwhelming to remember

so we do what we have to do
to be able to carry on
to cope

we build a strong cover over the wound
hiding it away
keeping it far from us
protecting us from pain

and the covers come in all shapes and sizes
the cover of indifference, or of charm
the cover of strength and competence
or maybe rebellion and don’t give a damn

over time we forget what lies underneath
we become transfixed with our own illusion
the magician falling for his own tricks
we’re good at fooling ourselves
we’re good at not remembering

yet over time the cover starts to rot
it’s acrid odour fills our nostrils
it was never true only make-believe
like plastic grass and fake flowers
lifeless and decayed
but now we have nothing left that’s real
only this slimy reconstruction

and still our wound remains hidden
buried away, unhealed

now it seems there’s no way out
nothing seems to be working
all our efforts in vain
all the hard work of keeping ourselves
intact, impermeable, perfect and shiny
falling away

and all that seems to be in front of us
a dark abyss
that threatens to swallow us whole

A dark night descends
panic, confusion, despair
our only companions

HELP ME!
and in surrender help arrives
and yet not as we might expect
for she demands the highest price
to stare into the face of all that we are and welcome it all

to admit to our false games of righteousness, superiority and judgement
and see them as the false idols they are
promising all and giving nothing

and yet even this is just the beginning
don’t get caught here
don’t get tempted into self accusation and recrimination
all just distractions to keep you pre-occupied

keep looking, keep breathing
and peer deeper still
see what lies underneath
everything in you will want to run away
everything in you will want to deny

for here lies your terror
in your helplessness, your powerlessness
your badness, your not-enoughness
the lies that were birthed in your earliest moments
that you’ve carried locked deep inside

yet keep looking, keep breathing
and find your terror slowly abaiting
maybe other treasures are also waiting to be discovered
also locked away
your tender heartedness, your compassion,
your fun and your vitality
no more needing to have it together
now you can let it all fall out with rip roaring hilarity
no more needing to run
finally you can be still

finally turning to face yourself
you can come home.

Art: Cry of Despair: Hazza