Bruised Knees and a Silenced Soul

Yesterday the hurt and desperation in my chest

Had escaped from their prison,

Usually locked in and guarded by my medications.

I’m sorry I hurt you.

I’m sorry I caused you pain, confusion, and worry.

You want a full explanation,

But I can’t give you one.

You see,

I can’t give an explanation

Or an excuse,

Because you won’t buy it

As the truth.

I know you want to understand,

But no one can.

That is why I only share parts of myself

Only one or two parts per person,

And usually told through dark jokes.

No one wants to hear all of my s**t.

No one wants to attend my inner pity party.

It’s selfish

And eternal.

Sometimes the cops drive by, and it quiets down.

This pity party only reaches

The peaks of its rave

When no one else is around,

When no one else cares.

The bruises you see

On my knees and feet

Are physical representations

Of my beaten soul--

Or would it be “spirit?”

I try to put on my best front possible,

Though others would disagree.

So,

Maybe that’s why the abstract pain shows up

Mysteriously manifested

On my body.

I’m falling fast.

Someone? Save me?

I’m going down the rabbit hole,