I Don't Have Pain - August 7, 2016

I don't have pain.

So I sit here talking to myself with nothing to lose nor gain hoping to find a remedy inside myself. That's oh so pure and full of happiness. Or at least that's how I want you to see me. I want to set these thoughts of mine free. Which is not that easy but it should be because 

I don't have pain. 

I am not a victim of rape or a gay Christian. Nor have I ever been racially profiled but the style at which I live my life is abusive , to me . And all I can see are a sea of people around me waiting to laugh at a joke or a mockery that I have created about the situation I had recently been in. I cannot sit here and make you cry out of sympathy because it's just not me and if you think for one second that I have ever let my thoughts consume me then you're wrong because 

I don't have pain.

Love is just a stain on a t-shirt I wear the most and wash the least because I feel like there's nothing else to wear and if I wanted to go bare the thought of not showing this scar will drive me crazy. My mother thinks I'm fat and lazy. Because I don't do my laundry. Does my father love me, maybe? I was never sure but I stopped counting those like all the wine bottles in our trash can. Can I even ask you? But I kinda don't want to, afraid that you won't say no,  so I'd have to act like I know why you are so distant with me. Just like the space in between that all mighty he or she, in the sky. I choose not to dwell on it too much because 

I don't have pain.

 That imaginary burden I carry everyday of feeling like I let you down, it doesn't exist. Or maybe it does, just like you. I have no clue , you never respond or reach out to be but now I'm told to believe in something that I can't see? Who are you and who are we? To try and preach something that we never understood, teach me how to love myself for who I have become. But you don't even know and the pain has begun, to seep in again, but you will never understand or see, my family, my friends. I am infected by the mind and pierced in the heart by the people who have seen my parts because I have broken myself down and given everyone little pieces , of my heart but has only left me with decreases, of love for myself. Telling everyone I don't need a man because I'm so independent, and falling in love should never be planned. But what do I know of that 


This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741