feel it as it swims inside of you, releasing the hurt

for those of you that
know
what pain is
and how to use it
and how to embrace
it
how to make it your own,
you'll understand what I'm
saying.
for the rest of you, go read
something else.
we don't need you here.
you can't relate.
go pretend about
beauty
go pretend about
sacrifice
go fuck yourself
and leave us be.
now that they're gone
and it's just us,
do you find the joy
in tears?
do you see a tuft
of white
in the dark?
do you hold it
and cradle it
and make it your own?
I'm not talking about
the phony feelers;
those who say they know
of hurt and use it
as an identity.
I'm talking about
the sufferers,
the tried
the tender
the true.
those of you that have it,
know it. it is a part of your being
and you think of what life would
be like
if it wasn't there.
and if it wasn't there, you wouldn't know
what to do without it. it has become a skin
after all these years, a layer of moist
that keeps you warm.
it is sudden.
it is shallow
it is the meaning
of this.
and without it, we would just be
mindless slaves finding the
beauty in flowers, the beauty in
jest, the beauty in the soft of a child's eyes.
but we look and we embrace that nuance of
hurt that happens in all things, how low they've
been, how low they are yet to fall and we see strength.
that is our cancer
our sickness divine
our lust and loneliness
our crucifix
now that they're gone, don't you feel better?
don't you feel?
don't you feel at all?

see, what we feel is magnificent

it is the holy jest,

the true joke to this all.

a knot of feeling that

very few

can relate to.

it is our sacrifice so the

rest can know,

so the rest can cope,

so the rest can rest.

we take this weight

and conceal it in ourselves

because it is only us

right here

right now

and it is beautiful

because we get it.