Will There Be Light at The End of This?

my name was left outside to rot
a flicker in the static that the world forgot
the loudest sound I've ever known
the deafening echo of loneliness
pain is all I feel in this jagged silence

tell me…
is there a light ahead for the broken?
a place where the worthless finally become worthy?
if I am less than human in this grey today
will I be something more when I die?

tell me this darkness is only temporary
a trade for the bright light that will never fade

treat me like I'm invisible
treat me like I'm nothing

i watch the hollow years gone by
no candles burned
no songs were sung for me

a face that took no effort to forget
no one cared that I was ever born
just an uncelebrated undignified matter

i'm like a chore the world hasn't finished yet
perhaps the celebration only starts when I am gone
their burden lifted at the break of my breath
if the law didn't make it illegal
to leave me where my heart stops beating
they'd be delighted to just turn and walk away

there wouldn't even be one last chore for them

tell me the cold pays for the heat
tell me the hunger makes the ending sweet
is my suffering a currency?
am I buying a peace that was promised to me?

Photo by Nahid Hatami on Unsplash

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The cruelest thing a person can do is force their own person into a corner, stripped of care and left in the dark. It is a betrayal to look at this person and pretend you don't see their pain.

There is nothing humane in refusing to provide even a single moment of concern for the person you abandoned. It is cold blooded when those you were bonded to choose silence and indifference, treating you with less dignity than a stray animal.

They all chose to trample over the heart that open up to them.

Since there is no warmth to be found here, I must find it within myself.

The only thing left to be done is to be strong; that strength is already there, living somewhere deep inside us.

We will continue to live in the best possible way we can, through self-care and every other act of reclamation.

We live with existential hope. Even when today feels unbearable, we hold onto the belief that something will appear along the way to make sense of all this pain.

I am holding on. We all should.

©Britt H.

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