The Cycle written by Maria Omelchenko There is no pain like emotional wounds Those are deeper and have no limit No maximum skin surface to slice through No size, no shape, no length or diameter No clock can predict how long they will last Sometimes they pull you down like invisible chains And you feel a tombstone weigh down your shoulders And no one can make you feel human again You search all over social media For someone to message, someone to talk to You search through your entire contacts list To find broken promises and one sided conversations A silence that grows roots and leaves and budding flowers And suddenly you find yourself in a garden of sorrow Filled with weeds that grow around your ankles You feel yourself merge into the ground And the cycle begins again.
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