Disclaimer: I do not own PJO or any of its characters
A/N: So this is a little poem about loss that I wrote in 7th grade and kinda liked... it's definitely not one of my best, but I just read Blood of Olympus and was thinking about Nico and then how Bianca died and I thought that this could be related to how he felt when she died. Reviews? Please?
Scars
grief, anguish,
sorrow, heartache,
misery, pain,
unhappiness, woe
do these words do it justice?
no.
is it
the roaring sound
that fills your ears,
the shock
coursing through your veins
as your brain sputters,
unable to comprehend
the awfulness
of what is happening?
no.
could it be when
your stupid, stupid body
finally begins to understand
when the choked sob tears its way free
lighting the path
for the others to follow?
when you wonder just why,
no matter what you do,
nothing hurts more than
the gaping hole in your heart
where he was roughly torn from you?
no.
it's the first death
the first loss
the first time you realize
they're gone
and they're never coming back
it's the first time you hear the words,
"I'm sorry for your loss,"
and truly understand
just how meaningless they seem now
it's the first funeral
stiff and black and somber
just a pity party, really
where your grief can mingle
churning together into one tangled rope,
black and abysmal as it stretches up to the sky
a twisted sort of salute
it's the way the world changes around you
how you can't look at someone
without seeing just how much it will hurt
when they, like him, are wrested from your grasp
it's how you suddenly have to decide
between the all-too easy, "safer" path
of depression and alienation
and the indescribably harder path
of soldiering forward,
seeing if "fake it till you make it"
actually carries any weight behind it
it's when you choose neither,
when you decide
numbness is better than the pain,
the anger,
the agony,
the sense of betrayal—
they left you
it's when you find yourself
faking a smile
when you realize
just how good you are
at pretending
when you realize
it's not healthy
that the pain is down there somewhere
but you can't bother to reach it
it's when you suddenly classify people:
those who know your pain,
how it never really goes away;
and those who don't, who,
no matter how hard they try,
will never know
until the day when their whole world stops
and they realize that life doesn't last forever
this is something that can't be characterized
with things as trivial as words
this is something that can't be explained
this is when you have no choice
but to lose,
to realize your hero
isn't as invincible as you'd once hoped.
this is something that won't get easier with time
don't believe what they tell you
it doesn't get better
they'll be no less important to you
in a hundred years
than they are right now
it will hurt no less
you can learn to live with it,
to tolerate it,
to grow a callous over your wounded heart
but it doesn't last forever
because you can spend all your energy
building your walls up
only for them to be ripped away again
believe me; I know
no matter how high
or strong, or impenetrable they may be
they will come down
and you will have to learn to live without them
because this is life;
this isn't a fairytale
people live and people die
they'll keep living
and they'll keep dying
and we'll just keep puttering onwards
and maybe, just maybe,
we'll rediscover the things
that make life worthwhile
maybe, someday,
we'll be able to look up
at the sunlight filtering
through the nicked edges of finely-veined leaves
and see their beauty
maybe we'll find someone else
to fill that hole
or at least help
someone to make you laugh
to make you smile
to make you love again
someone to heal that wound
until all that remains
is
a
scar
