Numb…

Sometimes in life we just go numb,

emotionally drained, down to the last little crumb.

The pain of life is often too much,

open wounds are raw and sensitive to the touch.

But once people go numb, what does that mean?

How dull the senses, that once were keen?

Will the treatment of others continue to worsen?

The obvious affects on each and every person?

Once people are numb, can they ever come back,

from a road of darkness and eternal black?

Or is it a conscious choice that one makes,

to take the risk, putting everything at stake?

Upon their return, will they have changed?

Will their once dismal thoughts be newly arranged?

Only time will tell, a journey incomplete,

so tired the bodies and calloused feet.

At least when people are numb, they don’t have to feel,

the layers of pain that slough off and peel.

Maybe being numb is not such a bad thing.

It helps to soften the pain of life’s sting.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

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Scars

Though scars may fade and even heal,

their presence still remain.

While not allowing us to forget,

our fleshy wounds and pain.

The visible reminders of many journeys,

tough travels over time,

Consistently failing to forgive,

a self-defeating crime.

If only we would realize,

that forgiveness is the truth.

The visible scars may still remain,

 our healing is the the proof.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

If I Could Tell You…2

If I could tell you my most secret thoughts,

could I trade them in for the things once bought?

If I could tell you about the price I’ve paid,

the debts incurred because I stayed.

The sleepless nights, the endless hours,

spent dangling under your hypnotic power.

If I could tell you about the constant suffering,

the excuses made, a sad attempt at buffering.

If I could tell you… about your hurtful words,

flung thoughtlessly, outrageous and absurd

If I could tell you all of these things,

would it make a difference, or more heartache bring?

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

A Broken Heart

A broken heart,

rapidly beating as it

shatters into a million pieces.

Shards of pain as thin as glass

scattered about in disarray.

The heart’s eye sees its reflection

among the shiny emotional debris

Unable to imagine its original wholeness.

Pain and emotion spill

from the heart’s tender center

like vivid life’s blood.

Dripping in a sorrowful rhythm

as it mourns its brokenness.

Broken for now but the true beauty

lies in its ability to become whole again.

Every piece coming back together.

The heart is broken no more

as it pumps new life’s blood….

until the next time.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall