All of These Hurts

There’s a hollow in my heart when I think of you,

when the sky is your favorite shade of blue,

when the emerald leaves are rustling in the breeze;

and despite my prayers and my pleas,

I’m stuck inside this prison of the past.

The good old days have chained me up and gone.

My heart just isn’t in anything anymore,

because I think of you with every coming dawn.

There’s a sadness in my life day after day;

a bitterness in every word I think or say.

The flowers and the butterflies console me not.

Though freed by spring, I’m imprisoned by thought,

and my thoughts, of late, are really very dark.

I’ve been abandoned by the good old days.

Sometimes, I dream about me moving forward,

but the violent nightmare overcomes and stays.

There’s a reality in this dark fog I’ve entered.

My mind has turned to ash; I am less centered.

The bitter lust of violence turns my lonely heart

and threatens in insanity to rip something apart.

If anyone but guessed the thoughts inside my head

or knew just how deranged my nightmares have become,

they’d chain my wrists in fear of me, but needlessly;

as for all of these hurts, I’m mainly numb.