Balmoral Beach, January 6th, 5:22am. It is finally daybreak.
In the quiet of daybreak,
Between the night of yesterday
And the dawn of the new year,
I sit in silence among the grey space.
I wait for the warm hues of the dawning sun
To provide comfort to my frigid skin,
But does not reach my heart
Where it seems so very cold.
Why is it that I feel so empty—
That the food in my stomach does not fill me,
The heavy air in my lungs escapes me,
And my lethargic body confines me?
I prayed to my God for so long,
Finally believing He brought back joy,
But this terrible ache persists,
Despite all the good gifts.
I want to know why the tears still fall,
Why this emptiness gnaws at my flesh,
Like a parasite starved of sustenance,
When the new year has only just begun.
This only feeds that sinister voice,
The one that resides in the back of my mind,
That there is something inherently wrong,
With me and my poor being.
I desperately want to fix it,
This unknown feeling in my soul—
But how could I possibly do such a thing,
When it is a grief that even I do not understand?
I believe I mean it when I say,
There is nothing wrong,
Yet it would seem like a lie to say,
All is well.
But my heart has formed cracks
Like tiny papercuts to the skin,
For I don’t see the wounds
These invisible troubles have caused.
I swear I am happy,
For this smile I show is real;
I wear it like a badge of honour—
You can see it, can’t you?
In the quiet of daybreak,
My gaze softens upon the changing horizon,
Since I love the warmth of the sunrise
And that orange yolk I so deeply admire.
And this crescent moon of mine
Will always smile for my Father’s creation,
Even through this inconsolable agony
That sits upon my looted chest.
水 