Tag Archives: pain

Never Meant To

It was never my intention to hurt you
I never meant to cause you pain
But now your tears weigh heavy on my chest
It’s like a ton of bricks pressing down
All I wanted was to tell you
How I truly felt inside
And though I may be clever with words
It is clear that I’m still learning
Cause my heart and mind are not one
For it’s true
It’s hard for me to open up
To show you how I really feel
I’ve always been afraid
But I know what I feel for you
And it kills me to see you this way
It was never my intention to hurt you
I never meant to cause you pain
But, now your tears weigh heavy on my chest
It’s like a ton of bricks pressing down
And though you ask for your space
I beg of you don’t push me away
Just tell me the truth
Help me learn
Give me your heart to mend
Because it was never my intention to hurt you
I never meant to cause you pain
Joy and laughter are the only things
That should grace your face
No tear of sadness to stain
So please don’t push me away
Please see my flaw
And help guide me on our way

© 2017 Jessica Santos

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The Silent Killer is NOT (Just) Cancer

Lurking within me is a beast waiting for the right time. And like its prey, I have little to no warning of when it will emerge. But best be reassured that there is no way of escape. Like Cancer, there is no cure or way for peace; but, few seek a resolution and instead many must suffer.

Little know or have even heard of this thing that will forever control my life. To some, it is considered “the Silent Killer” and to others it is much worse as some, like myself, considered death to be a relief. The pain alone becomes so strong so as to cause one to stare lovingly, longingly at any breakable or sharp object.

Then there is one’s diet. Remember all the foods traditionally savored and enjoyed, like ice cream, cake, cookies, candy, there are even more that one must deny the pleasure of consuming. All are a special case but all crave for a whispering taste of any deliscious morsel.

And I can’t forget one of the most fought for natural right of one’s womenhood. Because if we dare to consider the thought of children, then we must prepare for a long hard battle that many fail to ever win though some do. Yet, it is through many attempts, calculations, drugs and tears that such a feat is obtained.

Do not forget though that often those who are deadly end up become secretly passed along so as many after may suffer through similar difficulties.

A sure sign of such is the taunt and glances of many upon another whose looks are not entirely of the norm. Those, like myself, are all too familiar with the daily battles against one’s own hair as this beast enjoys to lay its tail like a mustache upon our upper lip. Its hair could also be shed upon other parts of our body so as to create an art peice of its own.

But who is this artist? this mastermind? this beast? It is none other than Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.

If any knows of its slow death then it is well known that it not only gives physical torment but mental too. For how can one continue with life, when many only offer temporary aid. Is it not better to succomb to the beast’s ultimate wish? Is that the only way for relief?

© 2016 Jessica Santos

The Cross’s Deceit

Her sight blurs
And her balance falters.
Slowly, she sinks to the ground.
“What is happening to me?” she begs,
While a throbbing ache in her side persists.

Throwing the drawer open,
She searches for any blade.
Finding none she grasps a glass jar
And with one great crash
It shatters at her feet.

Slicing her fingers,
She holds an angled peice close to her pride,
Preparing for the first incision.
She gulps down her strength
But the lady walks in.

Calmly, she clears the glass away.
“No dear, that is not your remedy,” she states.
Then, picks her up
And sets her down on the metal table

Fastening her legs upon some stirups
And shoving her on her back,
She chooses a metal probe.
“Now, take a deep breath,” she smiles.

A twinkle flashes into those eyes.
It is hardly noticed
As her legs are instantly parted
And with one fluid movement,
An icy chill rips through her
Snooping over private hills and tiny crevices.

What was left of her precious is lost.
Only a desire to scream pervades;
But, her mouth remains shut.

“Just a little longer,” the lady coos.
(As if she could even be aware of time)
But, just as the wondrous wonder adjusts,
A sharp jab consumates more
Sending a swift reminder.
And, just as it began,
The lady removes her wand.

Words pass through the air
Followed by a torn note.
She crams it into her pocket,
Like the thought of return,
And clumsily walks away
Dripping in red.

The footsteps she leaves are not to be followed;
But, exiting the double doors,
She glances into familiar eyes.

© 2016 Jessica Santos

I’m Here Old Friend

“Just let it go. But, how can I? Nothing is the same any more.”

Now, I’m not afraid of the change. I’m more afraid of what I know to be true. They say the truth hurts but the truth hardly ever surprises me except this time…

At first, I thought it was anger. Then, my day went on and as I focused on how to get rid of it, I realized how wrong I was. It wasn’t anger at all. Instead, it was pain and sadness.

I don’t typically cry to express these two emotions. It tends to brew and hide itself under a false sense of anger which explains my confusion. (If I were to cry, that is usually out of relief.) So, knowing this, I know I’m not ready to let go.

I’m not ready because I don’t want to see my best friend in his last best suit. And the most painful part is knowing that he’s suffering. He use to be someone I sought for comfort. He was my protector, my guide and my right hand.

So, how am I suppose to let it go when the biggest question in my mind is what can I possibly do to help even though I know there is nothing I nor anyone else can do?

© 2016 Jessica Santos

Broke

Thats the thing
Sometimes it fades away
Sometimes its just lost
No one wants to believe it
So we fight
Give it our all
Trying to change
But that doesn’t happen overnight
It takes time
Which is ironic
When it began with a split decision
Yet, here we are
Where day after day has piled up
Slowly spilling over the brim
Before finally breaking through
And rushing out

© 2016 Jessica Santos