It will pass

Kind of borderline as far as poetry goes but I'm quite sure what to call it.

It will pass.

 It’s the kind of pain that swells up in your throat.  

The kind of silent indecisive overflowing tears.  

Worse than the violent sobs so fake and overdone the little waves of emotion. 

But still

No real pain deep cutting and unbearable.  

This is not that though the deep stabbing pain that 

takes your breath away.  

The soundless sobs that overcome till you physically can’t breathe and you bury your head in the pillow and search for anything to distract you from the horrible sensation resonating from far too deep inside you.  

Only the little questions. 

Not enough to be completely real.  

Just enough to spill out from you almost beyond your control.  

The questions you spend days trying very hard not think about:

 What did I do I wrong? 

Do I really deserve this?  Will this hurt them?  

Am I making the right choice?

Author's Note

Any feedback greatly appreciated.

Reviews

[RainQueen]

This is a piece that rips and tears. Anyone who has known this kind of pain - I would wager almost anyone tortured enough to write poetry - falls back into that old groove, that valley of agony. The "violent sobs' would be so much more cleansing that this horrible in-between, where we don't know if we are the victim or the offender.

Your piece is honest, raw, and does the one thing that powerful writers do with intrinsic skill - yank the reader, kicking and screaming back into that place you describe. Gorgeous write, but now i want to crawl under my desk and rock...

Thank you for sharing your soul.

[Harmonica winds]

Goodness, some powerful stuff here, quite the intriguing and interesting write.