Monsters — Stories in Solitude

We numb pain and refuse to believe it is part of us.

So Pain cries out, “Let Me Be”.

“But you’re hurting me!” You cry back, defending yourself like the knight you want to be.

But as we numb our pain, we are not acknowledging that it is a part of us.

As we push it further and further away, it finds more ways to come up.

Pain gets creative.

It starts to find you in your dreams,

in your conversations. In manifests into your body.

You wouldn’t ignore happiness if it came to you, right? When Happiness comes, you let it take you to magical, risky places.

So why would you ignore sadness? Maybe it will take you somewhere deep.

Somewhere dark, yes. Full of monsters, sure.

But those monsters are much friendlier than you think.

They love you, like the Angels love you.

They work in conjunction.

Light can be beautiful, but dark can too.

What are the monsters whispering?

You claim your brokenness to be a burden,

shutting out the potential for love.

It’s like pulling the roots out of the garden,

before the chance to see it come to fruition.

It’s the blossoming you’re scared of,

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted right in front of you,

left to rot.

You’re scared of reaching for the fruit,

for it seems sinful.

Except love is not a sin.

Baby, your brokenness is beautiful.

No matter how broken you claim to be,

in my eyes you are as wholesome as ever.