Almighty. We pray for healing and comfort. Only You know our pain and understand our discomfort. Only You know our grief and sorrow. Only You know our loneliness and suffering. Restore us in every way and keep hope alive in our hearts. Aameen
"human beings are members of a whole, in creation of one essence and soul. if one member afflicted with pain,other members uneasy will remain. if you have no symphaty for human pain, the name of human you cannot retain." Saadi....
it hurts because you cared more than you should have it hurts because your heart is brave enough to love unconditionally don’t be afraid of the hurt don’t run away from the pain in the midst of chaos you’ll cultivate peace after the destruction you’ll rebuild yourself
I cut. The first incision runs from my neck to just below my heart, deep enough so that I can finally feel something, not deep enough to flay me open. The pain flows like lava and takes my breath away. The knife carves a path in the flesh between two ribs, then, between the two ribs below that. Fat drops of blood splash on the counter, ripe red seeds. I am so very, very strong, so iron-boned and magic that the knife draws a third line between two ribs, straight and true. Blood pools in the bowls of my hips and drips to the tile floor. Black holes open in front of my eyes and the wild bird trapped in my heart beats her wings frantically.
I showed her how I’d been making tiny cuts in my skin to let the badness and the pain leak out. They were shallow at first, and short, like claw marks made by a desperate cat that wanted to hide under the front porch. Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care. . .
Parker saw Levi, but she felt Gus. Pieces of him lingered everywhere. She could close her eyes and taste him on her lips, smell the hint of leather and spice cologne in the crook of his neck, feel every muscle of his back beneath her fingertips, and hear his “I love you” echoing over and over. He was the wind. The moon sketching shadows. The shiver along her skin at night when she shut off the lights and whispered his name. He promised her everything and left her with nothing. How could nothing—a deep, hollow hole—feel like something so tangible, like her pain had its own pulse.