These Walls, That Shadow, Those Memories and This Soul

September 10, 2010

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These Walls, that Shadow, those Memories, and this Soul

How do you heal a man who’s pain is inside his head, a pain that transcends flesh and bone?

Behind these walls of distrust and shame, hidden so far deep inside of myself, in some dark corner of my sub-conscious mind, a little boy sits alone with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes facing down, blankly staring into the past. Trembling and afraid, this boy feels so misunderstood and so unsure of everything. Scared of what has been and scared of what always lay ahead.

This boy is battered and bruised, with cuts and scars, damp with tears and stained with blood. Lost and betrayed, this boy wishes that everything that has been had never come to pass and that everything that he dreams of would come true just one time.

Haunted by the past, forever haunted by the past. This darkness is everywhere, the daylight it can never last and the darkness is everywhere. This boy is so tired of the darkness, this loneliness in the darkness. So far away that no one can get to him, no one can get to me. Just that shadow, just that shadow and me.

Remembering in a cycle, a sadness never ceasing. Happy moments fade the moment they are born. I laugh and I smile, but they only last a little while. I can’t forget the pain inside my head, if only I could remember the better days instead.

This boy was me, this boy is still me. Broken as a boy, confused and distraught left with such a heavy burden to bear, there are pieces of me, so very many pieces of me everywhere. So fragile is a child, timid and vulnerable, so easily shattered. Hopes and dreams crumble forever after, in violent winds they are scattered.

And so this boy is lost, lost in the vast depths of this soul; forever wandering in search of the pieces to make him whole.

To heal a man who hurts inside his head, you must first heal the boy inside the man.


 

 

This essay is available as an audio track on SoundCloud:

About Kephen

I am a Buddhist and writer living in the heartland of America. I grew up on a farm and spent a large amount of time outside and in the woods, a childhood I would not trade for anything. I've been writing since I was 14 years old after my English teacher encouraged me to never stop. I am inspired by the works of Thich Nhat Hanh, Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, Ralph Emerson, Henry Thoreau, Marcus Aurelius, Viktor Frankl, Carl Sagan, Jane Goodall, Kahlil Gibran, Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and the list goes on. I read and write about various topics including Buddhism, religion, nature, astronomy, depression and psychology, politics, as well as some fictional writing.
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