“I am waiting for the quiet
The quiet that comes with peace and comfort.
I have never been comfortable
Not to my knowledge.
I remember the bed in my childhood
It came from an institution for some kind
And felt like it
Rubber mattress
And metal chain link barrier to the bottom bunk.
I have never been one for sleep.
Peace at night never came for me.
I was always so aware of the squeaks
I was always waiting for someone to come through the bedroom door.
There was a time when the man touched me.
It was uncomfortable.
The wood floors and walls trapping me under him.
I remember the feeling
But not what he did.
I’m still waiting for the peace and comfort people say comes from the passing of time.
I’m waiting for the bruises that my father made on my soul to fade,
They are still tender to touch
They still ache when people come to close to me.
I’m waiting for the quiet.
But not the silence of being abandoned
I want peace and quiet.
Im not sure it exists
But I rather like the idea of it.
It seems fruitless to wait for something that might not exist
Yet I keep watering the tree that may or may not bud.
It’s spring here in the north
It doesn’t feel like it through.
Snow still covers what ever plants are trying to sprout.
It’s still cold.
Death and decay still bristle in the wind.
There is quiet in the woods but it doesn’t feel peaceful,
It has that nipping scent to it
The one that makes one turn up the collar of a coat and hurry to warmth.
I feel like much of what I’ve done has been to out run the nipping cold that chases my heels.
There is no fire big enough to defrost the trauma that billows like a never ending snow storm.
Yet I keep stoking the fire.
I am looking for peace and quiet.
I’m waiting for comfort.
I’m not comfortable in my body;
Anxiety has shaken the bones until they rattled from where they were meant to be.
Now they don’t feel as though they belong in my skin.
Anxiety shook my heart so badly it doesn’t feel like it belongs in me anymore,
I don’t even think I belong... not in this body
This body that quakes when the meer idea of her father enters in.
Comfort. Peace. Quiet.
I’m waiting for what world claims I deserve after surviving.
Surviving is not peace.
It’s just another war to wage.
They don’t tell you that;
It’s not the trial that hurts it’s the life you have to live after.
I wish I knew the hardest part would be living.
Most of living is just waiting for the pain to pass.
The trouble is that once one pain passes you can be damned assured another will come.
There is no rock bottom
There is just more dirt to swallow you down.
I don’t mean to sound so morbid but with so much darkness that surrounded me
I almost despise the light, it always leaves
And I’m am so sick of things leaving.
The darkness has never left, I only need to close my eyelids and it will cover me.
I just want to be in the quiet but
My mind it can’t handle it.
I envy the people who can sit with themselves in silence.
I can’t even stand the two seconds it takes for a song to change,
I’m too afraid of what will swallow my mind in those mere moments.
I don’t know what else to do.
I have tried chasing it And i was only left winded.
I cut people off and I was only left with a Christmas Eve with only myself to share it.
I tried ignoring it and the insufferable silence became louder.
I finally cried after years of dry eyes and I only hated myself more.
I stoked the flame and cold just blew it out.
I made new family and they died.
So I don’t know what else to other then just sit and wait for it to find me
Cause I am so fucking done trying to grab something that doesn’t even want me.
I guess I’ll just make a home here in the waiting and maybe one day I’ll forget just what was supposed to come.”
- I will wait for you... it’s all I can do, it’s all that I have left in me. I lost my fight and my sword has rusted. But when your ready I’ll be here.... waiting
