I like reading self-help books, but I'm not sure how much some of them really help. Lol. But I try. Most recently, I picked up It's Okay if You're Not Okay. It's about grief and how we all work through the process differently. Each caregiving environment comes with its own pre-packaged grief to work through. It's complimentary and included for free. Lol. Kind of like a staff infection when you go to the hospital.. just comes along with the deal. (I'm kidding.. mostly!)

As I read, I realized that I really did have a lot of unexpressed pain and grief stuffed inside - my pain was voiceless. That's when this poem popped out - I share it with you hoping you'll relate - but I'll be glad if you don't. In the midst of the pain - the grief - the sorrow - God is there. Even though this is not expressed in this poem - know that I know God is present with me. His presence isn't a remedy for pain and it doesn't make grief go away. But it does allow me to trust Him and let His comfort rule in my soul over the pain. It's good to know that God doesn't leave when my soul is burdened. I just happen to be voiceless.

Voiceless

 

You are not allowed

To express your pain

Heavy sighs and eyerolls

--no, not that again

Bottled up and well kept

The pain inside remains

You have no right

To share your pain

--

Grieving the lost loved one

The one for whom I care

Yet their body is close

They are sitting right there

Gone but still here

The soul’s epic dichotomy

Leaves emotions in the breach

And all feeling out of reach

--

Deep dark chasm of pain, motionless

Closed up – tied up – bottled up tight

Until Emotions explode and

Tears run like a roaring tide

I need you - I want you -But go away

I have none of the right words to say

You don’t understand - What I’m feeling inside

No prayer no poem – Can make my grief subside

--

Friends are gone - the pain too deep

Family is distant - company they can’t keep

Stranger’s stares

Feel like selfish glares

But pain and grief?

Remain my only witness

Waiting to be expressed

Until then – pain remains voiceless

 

 

© J Olinger September 14, 2024