Poem: Tired of the Pain

I’m tired of the pain that wears no name,
A quiet storm, a ghosted flame.
Each breath I take feels sharp and thin,
A war I fight beneath my skin.

I smile and nod, I laugh on cue,
But no one sees what I walk through.
The nights are long, the days repeat,
A thousand losses in defeat.

I’ve held my hope with bleeding hands,
Built dreams on ever-crumbling sands.
But every step feels just the same—
A shadow dance, a silent shame.

I want a day without the weight,
A moment that can breathe, not break.
To feel the sun and not the sting,
To let go of this endless string.

I’m tired—so tired—of the ache inside,
Of memories that will not hide.
But still I rise, though barely whole,
With cracked resolve and battered soul.

If there’s a light beyond this rain,
Let it be more than just in vain.
Let it be peace, or something near,
Or just a voice that says: “I’m here.”

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie