Hymn for the dead

This isn’t meant to be a piece of mourning, but rather words on a page. They flow freely, so I apologize if it isn't ideal or grammatically flawless. If you have any negative feedback, please refrain or e-mail it to your mother. 

Whilst I’ve read others thoughts that are similar to my own, my heart aches. That is, what heart I may have left. We’ve all struggled with trials, tribulations, heartbreak, and many other unfortunate events; but I do believe my journey to be quite unique. It is a journey that involves certain things I will take to my grave. Other things are shared selectively, and tastefully. 

And so they say, “sticks & stones may break my bones, but words may never hurt me.” From whomever this quote originated, I feel as if I would diagnose them with (subtype: disorganized) schizophrenia. The flat affect is the only valid cause to have an emotional indifference upon being verbally attacked. For I believe the human language to be the most powerful force on this earth. 

Although it may be powerful, language cannot fully encompass what one may feel. There are scars that will never heal; internal wounds which are currently bleeding profusely, and bruises decorating all that is left. Much of what has caused this mural of pain include: things that people have said, rejection, being disliked, being publicly humiliated, and somehow, never finding anyone who loves you for who you truly are. If they claim love, it’s conditional at best. 

To know that my sarcasm, hostility, rudeness, abrasiveness, or any other negative action has caused people to be cut, sometimes deeply, pains me to the very brim. Using derogatory terms casually wasn’t meant to hurt anyone. To know how offended some have been is agonizing, in & of itself. For that, I am truly ignominious. I will be better tomorrow; I swear. 

Some are blessed with awe-inspiring moments, and I happen to be one of them. From birth, I have thought that with opposition being prevalent in my life, I was genetically pre-disposed to certain highs and lows. You can only ask, “Why me?” so many times. We won’t always get an answer here, and it’s important to remember that mortality does not always have a fairy-tale ending. 

Evoking certain emotions can be lethal, but is it healthier to hide them away? I have suppressed my emotional state for years on end, and the buildup has been detrimental. Be open about how you are feeling; as open as you can be. Although the other party may not be able to feel exactly as you do, know that God does. He lives. He knows. He loves.

Someday, I hope to have mended the broken-hearted. I hope to save the souls of many. I will endear myself to those who don’t believe their life is worth living. My heart sings a hymn for the dead every passing moment. In death, as in life, we are one in the same. Let us all sound together for a greater cause. Let us speak kindly about, and to, one another. Let us patch up others wounds if we may. For the field is truly full of tulips; we just have to get down and smell them.