This was a new kind of hurt
Not constant or regular
The kind that swooped in and out
Embezzled the air from my lungs
The kind of hurt that came in ripples
Fading away eventually
But not before spreading
And at 15 I could not run my fingers through my hair
Without clumps falling out into my palms
Or the floor or the table or the bed
And everytime I would smoke a cigarette
I would visualize the tar and the cancer filling my body
Because somehow it made it all better
My mama would never believe me if I told her
And my friends wouldn't know how to help me
And the boy calling me every night pretending he loved me
Would only get angry
I could feel bits and pieces of myself chipping away
Corroding
As an ocean of loss washed over me
Again and again and again.
About the Creator
Trinity Noelle
23. poet. mama. survivor. ex junkie.
lover of too much. feeler of everything.
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Comments (1)
This description of hurt really hits home. The way it comes in waves is so relatable. I've felt that sense of things chipping away. How did you manage to get through those times when it felt like so much was against you? It's tough when you can't talk to family or friends. Did you ever find a way to deal with the self - destructive thoughts, like the ones about smoking and cancer?