Terrors That Have No Name . . . . . Reyan Davis . . . . . For every person who has ever hurt, enjoy
Terrors That Have No Name

. . . . .

Reyan Davis

. . . . .

For every person who has ever hurt, enjoy pain stories
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chickn_a_soop I’m not crying, you are.....
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
A poem written for anyone who has ever experienced a great deal of pain and had/has nowhere to store it.

Terrors That Have No Name . . . . . Reyan Davis . . . . . For every person who has ever hurt, enjoy

Some days I drag out my makeup bag Put a full face of makeup on To feel better about myself Because no one likes a pizza face Only to remove every molecule of it all With four wipes in the trash with the rest of my self-esteem

Some days I’ll spend hours finding the perfect out fit Slip into it and glare at myself in the mirror Realize that no one will see me looking nice anyways Rip it off Fall into an oversized pair of sweatpants and baggy sweater Because I’d rather be comfortable

Than be uncomfortable in something no one will ever notice Some days I find myself opening social media Posting something in hopes of likes or comments To gain approval from people to like me Even if I’ll never meet them

But regretting it They’re taken down and I have no posts on my profile Knowing I don’t have any friends or followers And that I’m not any kind of influencer Some days I make plans to do something with someone

Then cancel them immediately after I made them Or I wait until the last minute to do so Because I feel like I won’t enjoy myself Or I’ll make the other people regret hanging out with me So I stay inside Isolate all day with no interaction with human kind Some days

I wake up multiple times throughout the night Hoping each time I do That I’ll drift back to sleep and stay sleeping But I often don’t and stay up for several hours at a time Thinking Knowing trying to go back to sleep is impossible Yet I find myself throughout the course of the day Taking two or more extensive naps

Some days I won’t eat at all I discover that I turn down a lunch date Or a muffin from a church party Because I feel like if I accept it I’ll look fat or feel guilty afterwards Then when I get home I binge and endings until I get too tired for another bite And always feel a pit in my soul afterwards

Some days I sit in a room of a group of socializing people Say nothing and try to predict a moment I can talk But never do Letting someone else do all the talking In fear of sounding uneducated or a waste of space But later I wished I would have stepped out of my comfort zone

Said something Made people laugh Tell a fun fact Anything to not feel lonely Some days I just sit and sob and weep For periods of time every few days Sometimes for nothing Others for a bad memory that I’m reminded of Or maybe

Feeling like even if I were to tell someone everything That bothered me or was wrong They’d never understand or question why it meant so much I’m once again reminded to just remain quiet And carry on Some days I arrive at work And fake a good time or push through it more than I’d like to

Hoping I’d get a raise soon Or I’d be somewhat tolerable to others To make the load lighter Take a chance on getting my shift covered so I can relax But inevitably end up being last to clock out Or asked to do the hardest tasks Draining me from my energy by the time I get home Some days

I find it easier to let people walk over me Than to stick up Talk back or walk away Because it’s not like they take me seriously anyways No one ever seems to take “no” like I mean it No one ever seems to do anything about it anyways when I can’t So why bother? Words don’t break sticks and bones

Some days I feel like running away from my past so hard I lose track of myself and my life Leaving everything behind But then I feel like I can’t let it go Outrun it and leave it in my dust So I walk along it Let it soak my mind up in its’ pain and distraught Drink its’ resentful and never-quenching water of regret

Before it turns me loose back onto my never ending sprint Some days All I can do is listen to music Submerged in the instruments pounding in my ears Pulling through my head As words and lyrics I’ll never assemble into speech Flood my mind until I mentally explode into a mess

Of overwhelming emotion and colorful pain Because there are no words to speak life into Describing the way I feel or what I am going through Because sometimes words spoken by a specific person Is more damaging than someone you’ll never meet Or who knew you all too well through a microphone In a studio where every aspect of life is made into art

Some days I feel like an empty space Between the phrases “not yet” and “no longer” They are beyond too far apart Yet so close they clash into a mind boggling chaos That it’s an OBLIVION to think upon Because we all try so hard to wait for the perfect time For something for so long

That it passes us by without a second thought or regret And we are abandoned on an island of wasted time With no clue how to swim back to our safe haven Of knowing the difference between the two Some days I send all of my best soldiers in my mind

Heart and soul to fight for something or someone That has let me go so long ago That by the time I realized it I’ve already invested a lifetime of battles I knew already defeated me from the get go But I keep raging on Because sometimes the memories is all I have left to live for That I’m too devastated to lose

Some days Reality changes so much for me So fast and so drastic that I don’t even know what’s real anymore And a lot of the times I never want to Because they all say we get to pick out poisons But what they don’t want you to see That only exists within the limits of the fine print

Is that poison ONLY tastes like poison AFTER you’ve swallowed it So we find ourselves rummaging through Every potion in the books In high belief that we will find the cure for our troubles Some days I feel everything all at once And other days I feel nothing at all

So I don’t know which is worse: Drowning beneath the waves of an infinite storm Or dying of thirst that’ll never be quenched And these my friends; Are the terrors that have no name

Comment your thoughts, suggestions, or anything you’d please; I just ask for brutal honesty, even if you hate it. Thank you, let me know if y’all like this, I don’t write that much. Love, Reyan Davis

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