it all makes sense right now
the way silence consumed your body
contrasting the hopeful spirit i put an effort to have
i could always feel my head trying like infinite
to help everything fall into place one day
to do whatever we'd decide and agreed on together
i was willing to write ourselves into some kind of miracle that might happen right before our eyes

now it just hurts.
now that i know i would never be your miracle.
hurts like and autoimmune disease that takes off chunks of yourself little by little everytime you reminisce.
hurts like no matter what may come, there can always be unsaid words somewhere within your mind, nowhere to be found, because you don't want them to be found.
unsaid as the silence after breaking my heart over your body
again and again

i dont know how to see it now
now that everything makes sense
i think it's the worst part of being alone:
being alone with the broken thoughts caused by being traumatized

one may help you get through the day
many can distract you for a couple hours
but as the day ceases, and everybody settles down to rest,
you're there, still stuck in between your misty thoughts.
traumatized.

we all know we can heal, there's nothing to say about that.
we all know it takes time, and that there's a lot of things you can do while you grieve. to ease the process. to be kind to your own misadventure.
but there are days when you wake up remembering the trauma is alive and breathing inside your chest...
and those will just hurt.
hurt like we're trying to help by taking off chunks of our own self
hurt like broken thoughts without any distractions
hurt like everything makes sense in an awful way to carry around.

and now it just hurts.