I Want To Believe 

It feels as though someone 

crept up behind thee,

then took a sharp, serrated knife

that plunged deep

into the fine flesh of the human. 

“It will work out in the end”

numerous people have said,

“These things take time,

the pain will pave a new

path for your success in the end.”

The thick hazy fog

shields my vision and thoughts.

I want to believe, 

But I cannot.

Large wounds, 

swollen black and blue,

mark up, the broken body.

The heart was targeted,

but the bullet barely missed. 

Bandaids cannot fix

the aging wounds of pain.

Thick dark scabs build,

large mounds of lymphatic 

agony and sorrow that infect 

the body.

“You’ll be fine,”

“Just speak your feelings.”

“It helps to see people.”

“You are not alone.”

Meaningless words,

cascade from the helpless mouths. 

All words are failing miserably- 

Intending to make an impact

to help.

I want to believe,

But I cannot.

Once beautiful, 

now all but dust, 

in a dark, deep, corner 

ready to be swept up to be thrown away.

Like a haunted china doll, 

delipidated on a high shelf,

spackled with grime and age.

Broken bones,

fractured and shattered,

unable to move

pain in each stifling movement. 

“You will be okay,”

“Life has its ups and down,”

“Do you need help?”

“It’s not as bad as it seems,

stop overreacting.”

“I can help you, 

just talk.”

The same words,

over, and over again.

I want to believe, 

but I cannot.

Large sparks of fire

build up in the core.

A growing ball 

of confusion and rage, 

spreading throughout the limbs

punctures the heart,

poisons the mind.

“Come on, 

You’ll be alright.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Let it work out

By itself,”

“Problems don’t last forever.”

I want to believe,

but I cannot.

Deep dark water,

made of repulsive, rippling waves

Drown my poisoned mind. 

It feels as though hands 

grapple onto my thin vulnerable skin, 

then pull me under the thick black water.

My screams are muffled,

The thrashes for hope 

are useless. 

Lethal toxins drown my mind

it's useless, 

no one is coming to help. 

“Stop overthinking,”

“You’re dragging this out,”

“It's over and done with.”

“Let it go,”

“The old paradise is gone,”

“This is our new normal,”

I want to believe,

but I cannot. 

The scars and scabs

caused by words and conflict, 

can’t be seen. 

If you pass by me in the town

you may not even give two thoughts 

on who I am on the inside. 

The outside of me is pretty, smiley, and peacefully bliss

I’ll be there to listen to you;

tell me about your troubles and delights. 

The inside is a massacre of confusion and broken,

Shredded and ripped, 

Bullet holes and wounds,

Rotting flesh tracked with infected ulcers.

The outside may tell a story,

But the inside is the truth.  

                                        - Natalie Haulk