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Where Does It Hurt?

Where Does It Hurt?

2 mins
340


3 a.m. and you find me crying,

Just like every other day.

A few beer bottles lying on the floor,

Some burnt out cigarettes,

And a crumbled page, still blank.

And I, completely lost staring at the sky,

Searching for the constellations,

I read about when I was young.


You ask me where does it hurt.

And I look at your face,

Silently, for a few minutes,

With eyes that have cried too many times.

But still haven't learned how to hold back,

Before turning away to gaze at the sky again.

I couldn't find the pole star or the Canopus,

Perhaps I have forgotten all about them.


Wait! Didn't you tell me to bring apples?

Or was it oranges? Or was it someone else?

I don't remember. I can't remember.

Yesterday I forgot how to spell 'Ahead'

And then all of a sudden, words lost their meaning.

I sat there staring blankly at the page,

Waiting for the letters to come together and make sense.

But they never did and I couldn't sleep at night.


Where does it hurt, you ask. It hurts everywhere,

The crevices of my heart where I keep burying my emotions,

These tired eyes when I squeeze them shut too hard,

The skin on my leg where I carved the word 'Why'.

But I don't tell you any of this.

Instead I rest my head on your shoulder.

And you hold me close, you hold me tight.

And perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up

From a nightmare into another one.


Hoping, maybe it'll hurt less today

Or maybe, it wouldn't hurt at all.


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