Pain is his cousin who never goes away only to be dealt with in twisted anger, self victimized, ostracized. Unreachable, untouchable, unworthy of redemption, he refuses to break through his self-imposed barriers; believes he is helpless
against the invisible foe.
Pain is unacceptable, not a legitimate entity. Pain has planted thorny swords of barbed wire, preventing easy access. Pain wrapped in self loathing cannot move or grow. Tears of self pity, cover him like unshakable slime, his fears convincing him the pain will not desist. Self-flagellation wounds ooze thickly. He tells himself "it's all I am meant to be, just pain"
is but one who needs tender love and healing nonetheless. Dear Beastie, I come to you, my hand outreached to comfort,
yet, you stab me with your lightning bolts, unwilling as a cowering porcupine. You can only unleash your pain yourself, I see. Did you know I was once like you?
By soothing voice, I sing to you. By soft-coated whispers, I encourage you to breathe, and unwind the chains you have wrapped about yourself. Hiding in the poppies to cover the pain, locked you further away from the truth of you, brought increased harm and alarm and no remembrance of who you are.
And so, I calm my mind, my aching heart, my stress-filled body to accommodate your need for undivided attention, your need for redemption from your false beliefs to embrace what I once thought was the enemy. Without your spiky armor, you appear quite harmless.
With your oozing wounds placated, your tears dried away, you are quite a cuddly creature and purr readily when petted.
Dedicated to the dark within us all.