Tears fall steadily after the trauma
If you came to grips with it, at least
Those around you whisper things like “drama”
Each of us faces a diff’rent beast
You didn’t expect it to hurt so bad
Or you did and you wanted proved wrong
Lost are the logical thoughts you once had
Something so simple lasts for so long
Mascara lines down paling cheeks
Trembling hands clutch bathroom sink
How long since you have felt this weak?
“Give her water,” drink, drink, drink
Routine and necessity numbing the pain
You are responsible – think of the gain
This too shall pass
And it does
You do not have to tell yourself to breathe
But you do and it’s steady; a habit
Discover the feeling of sweet relief
Tell people it was hard, but you made it
But you don’t talk about that first moment
Five minutes, maybe?
Are we counting the nightmares?
You tell the details, distancing yourself
It happened then, the pain was here
But the emotions you seldom tell
All you felt was panic, fear
You’re most afraid it will happen again
And you worry you’ll be alone if it does
And it does
When you must relive it, the tears come first
They wait for no one, remembering
You brace yourself for the absolute worst
Then find you cannot do this thing
The prayer He prayed makes sense for the first time
“Remove this cup from me! I’m too weak to sip
I can’t bear it—Father, can You hear?
Your will be done.” The glass comes to my lips
I cry His name, and He says “I am here”
This too passed
But He remained
LYDIA HART grew up in the trenches of chronic illness; both in her mother and in herself. Currently, she is pursuing a degree in occupational therapy, because she has learned that the pain is never wasted, and the story should never be silenced.
Lydia blogs at: Broken Bird Song
Radical hope. Compassionate change. Equipping those affected by chronic physical and mental illness through community and education rooted in Jesus Christ.