the agony of healing...

it's so hard witnessing someone choosing to not even try
raising razor-wire around their mind
thinking it's protection...
...but it's not...
...it's restrictive...constricting
blocking out any semblance of true sight
welcoming the blindness taking hold of their inner eye
gouging out reality with cannibalistic claws 
while through parted fingers they jealously watch
as others gather the tatters of their own damaged lives
...and carefully rebuild
sewing seams in need of healing 
discarding scraps no longer needed
while the unwilling stubbornly hunker down
refusing to budge 
clinging to the threat of giving up 
because being a victim is so much easier 
always expecting change to come from somewhere else 

{I know, I've been there 
it's not a pretty place}

moving through the world in a state of denial
seeing nothing & no one else 
another length of barbwire barricading the heart
calling it safety...but it's not
as they cower in darkness
disinterested in searching for glimmers of light 
ruthlessly snuffing out even the dimmest of sparks 
...hunting shadows instead 
thinking to hide from their own truth
sometimes manufacturing what didn’t exist 
they shroud themselves in self-immolation's smoke 
giving reality another twist & wallowing in its ashes 
then smudging themselves with its covering 
burrowing so deeply in bitter they choke 
barely getting by on the hollow illusions they create 
...instead of a life they refused to claim 
barely living & calling it survival 
determined to cling to the thought...
that no matter what...it’s never their fault 
to them I have this to say...
...with much love & all due respect...

I get it 
life hurts 
believe me, I know 
but I’ve often heard it said 
the distance between what you want 
and what you get
is what you do
and so far I’ve found it to be true 
all you see is a chance it might hurt 
and the work
claiming it’s too much for you 
it's not a pass or fail life 
unless, of course, you never try
and let me tell you something else
going inward is agony 
bare-handed sifting through the shards of sanity 
where the mirrors that've shattered lay scattered at our feet
reflecting so much of what we don’t want to see 
but those same sharp edges are necessary 
...for breaking free 
to cut away debilitating outer layers 
...painfully
like scratching through the tender flesh of our psyche 
but that’s how we make room 
...to stretch & to grow 
...and to breathe 
no, of course it’s never easy 
but it’s so much better than dragging around the weight 
of all our tainted yesterdays 
crushing the fragile shoulders of our being 
never expect reparation to come from someone else 
if you want positive results 
you’ve got to go within 
and do it yourself

 

 
Revised older poem...years of intensive therapy & I'll still be doing the healing work on the day I die...it's so worth it