What is this pain you deal with these days
These demons that you carry
the emotions you bury
The baggage you hold
Until they are rotten and growing mold
Where did you go?
What demons chased you so far you did so?
Just tell me what you can
I want to know what hurt you
May it be death or some beast of a man
May it hold you back
As if chains on your ankles and hands
What must you withstand?
Just tell me
Past present it doesn’t matter
Just tell me
why do you hide this pain
Just release the beat and tell me again
I want to know
I want to help you heal all this hurt and pain
Just know i’m always here
And if you ever doubt it, I’ll tell you the same
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Easier said than induced. When I consider my own nieces, your excellently rendered/worded invitation can’t veil what little I do know, reminding me of the difficulty lying in the hands of therapists. If I were to add further, you might throw up your hands in despair, whence I’ll spare you for now.
I actually wrote this in frustration of an old friend.