Of the broken
Brokenness inside stings like the burning sensation of a knife cutting along top of the skin
Vision of happiness that's never been met
Can the mind take control and forse happiness upon the faces and in these agonizing souls
Is mind over matter enough.
You forse your fake smile and laugh every where you go
Carrying a happy mask around so no one can see the pain you mask it you hide it so no one will tell you everything will be okay.
Cause deep down you know your world has fallen apart and will never be the same and you try to rebuild it from the stones that were crushed and turned to sand
Trying to mold the sand into clay but it is to dry to even try.
So on the inside you fall and sit with your hands in your face and hold yourself in a ball but in the outside keep a marbled statue perfect and tall so people can't see your real side which is only a weak and feeble piece of matter that no one would even try to take a second glance at.
That no one would reach their arms out to pick up and dust of
The weakness they see as a sickness and a dirty disease so they turn their heads in disgust at your real side at the broken you side
Get over it they will say
Be strong they say
God will help you they say
And no, no it does not help.
they, when finding out its not working,
they tell you your faith is not strong enough.
Yet every day you pray and tell god in thanks for giving you the strength to keep trying to hold on.
You think about all the brokenness in this world all the ones who aren't strong who do not have the strength or faith to hold on.
And you wish you could reach out to touch their souls and let them know your hear for them. But like you, cause of all the pain caused, you know the belief in your words are not enough
The brokenness that no one will believe is real. Except for those whom suffer from it.
That the ones who don't have it like you do,
they don't understand it. They never will understand it.