Everybody Hurts

Everybody Hurts – R.E.M. Solo by Michael Stipe (Live at Glastonbury 2003) HQ

by R.E.M.

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone (Hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (Hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on

Everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts
Don’t throw your hand, oh no

Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone
No, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life
The days and nights are long
When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes

So hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts


The pain can be physical, emotional, mental, psychological, even spiritual. The title speaks the Truth: “Everybody Hurts Sometime.” ‘Hold on’ is the best mantra to say over and over again to one’s self when living inside the wall of darkness, to hold on, ‘this too shall pass’. To the composers of this song, they must have experienced many levels of pain and to Michael Stipe for expressing it so powerfully. I could feel your spirit shining through it all. I chose this piece of music for what it means to me and others who experience the darkness of such deep levels of pain. I will repeat what the song says: ‘HOLD ON’ EVERYBODY HURTS SOMETIME ‘HOLD ON’… – j.kiley ps. Life is still here for you.

See Post on ‘the secret keeper’ from Saturday Oct 15th 2016
for further details on R.E.M.

Want To Know Why? #5

Want To Know Why?
By Jennifer Kiley
Month of the Verse-30 days 30 verses #5

black-purple butterflies by lockjavv

Want to know why?
By jennifer kiley

want to know why?
the story does need telling
keeping secrets
the quietist part
of being a silent kid

things happened
always happening
running away
a regular activity
hiding was a trick
not possible enough

sleep had to come
night had to fade
darkness had to fall
rules of bedtime the same
learning how to play the game

lying there waiting
eyes open
mind racing
hearing the fights
tonight’s the night
someone was sure to die

this night for sure
laying there quiet
body tensing
feeling fear building
felt time repeating
always in the night
an abuser walked in
he came to her bedroom
she should have been sleeping
he should be upstairs
but he was in her room
he came there for her

she wasn’t able to speak
saying please “do not touch me”
no-she was silent-pretending
eyes closed-make believe she’s asleep
fear made her disappear
his prisoner from that night on
no protector-no soul
could sense out her pain
silently echoing inside of her brain

overwhelmed with confusion
her mind couldn’t grasp it
the words she should speak
blocked deep in her throat
and so she stayed quiet
the kid never spoke
her voice thought out loud
inside her head the long conversations
that were never said ever out loud

sometimes she could hear them
her thoughts were her own
whispering-they kept whispering
run away far from home
from sounds of them yelling
the brothers complaining
the mother believing
the lies they had told

it mattered very little
the mother was looking
for ways to blame her
for things that went wrong
the off things
the broken things
off balanced things
no difference at all
it wasn’t her fault
I think the mother knew
it wasn’t about blame
it was more about shame
and dominating all the same

making any sense
out of punishment
in her awakening
what was the reason
anyone would do her harm
it didn’t really matter
not then-no one believed her
all the wrongs would come true

her childhood was broken
so when something was wrong
the fault was her claim
it was the way it was to be
always her-in the contradiction
all reversed-upside down
it just meant one thing only
one more word that would stand out
it’s time for her she knew
another punishment go round

not thought out but calculated
carried out with great force
a passionate wild animal frenzy
hatred expressed in the most brutal form
a physical lashing-devices all chosen
with great deliberations and variations

every time this would happen
a cornered animal she became
turned wild and quite maddening
a dangerous panther she was the same
approached by the mad woman
all wild with her lashings
the more vigorous and continuous
the whippings wanting her tame
but you can’t tame a wild thing
no matter how hard you try
she’ll fight you-she’ll scratch you
till it’s both eye to eye

relentlessness-no compassion
no tears-not a sob-or crying
no sound could be heard
emotions were forbidden
even though more wrath came to bare
the punishment upgraded
pain levels increased
clothing was torn off
the whip struck flesh harder
burning welts on the body
blood spread satisfaction
how sadistic the jailer
a needed reward
subduing the victim
with mandatory silence
then punishment will cease
momentarily only
one sound broke that scheme

victim sent off to her bedroom
silence must always remain
or be forcibly maintained
tears and crying into her pillow
made way too much noise
not a sign of submission
the mother made sure
outside her door
mother listened and waited
when sound it was heard
time to enter mother’s baited

as the torturer returned
the back she exposed
her bottom and legs
she laid them bare
to the sight of the whipping
it resumed with no end
except silence would break it
or the pain of the whipping
would just begin again
until silence was settled
at last guaranteed

phase three was the most awful
humiliating completion of all
of this torturous ritual
the victim must fall
she must grovel in the doorway
of the sadist’s closed door
her voice must be
filled with contrition
with pleas for forgiveness
while the door remained closed
it never ever opened
it was part of the game
soundlessness came from inside
the victim crumbled from pain
and humbled humiliation
pleading she was so sorry
calling out her “mom’s” name
always wanting forgiveness
that never ever came

no matter how many times
this ritual was enacted
the door remained closed
the sound never came
the sadist’s coldness was always the same
in that room it was soundless
and froze out the girl
all of her that remained

to be forgiven
to be accepted
to be loved
by the monster
who possessed what wasn’t human
where a mother should have been
with loves unacceptance
and forgiveness denied
the girl went on living
a tortured soul lived inside
and all that she wanted
and asked for in kind
that her mother forgive her
but no forgiveness would come
not then and not ever
not this time
not next time
at no time
it never would come

© Jennifer Kiley 2012

Concrete Angel-Martina McBride

Thinking Versus Feeling!

Post written by Dr. Niamh Clune—“Thinking Versus Feeling!”
This is brilliantly written. “Feeling” as the only rational function of “Thinking” – it is so true. It helps me to explain why I can experience anger or depression and step out consciously while still being aware these emotions are happening in me and I can explain to my partner what is happening inside of me as though separate from the emotions. What to do about switching into another emotion, that is the part that I haven’t figured out yet. It brings a clearer understanding to it by reading what Dr. Clune wrote in her post “Thinking Versus Feeling!” This series has been important to me and I think and hope for others. Emotional Fitness (TM). a great Trademark. An interesting distinction between emotions and feelings. The post “Thinking Versus Feeling” is a very important and intelligent concept to understand. Go to the “Thinking Versus Feeling! Post to get a clearer understanding of what Dr. Niamh Clune is writing about “Emotional Fitness (TM).” This series is excellent and is giving me an understanding that seems to be what I need to hear at this time. The last one on “Do You Cry?” and this one “Thinking Versus Feeling!” have already helped me in more ways than I probably even know. Thank you, Dr. Niamh Clune for your brilliant post. J.K. the secret keeper ps. Please check out the beginning of this series as well as this post which is the second in the series, it is quite enlightening. I intend to follow the complete series as it develops. I can’t wait to see what Dr. Clune has waiting for us next in this series on “Emotional Fitness (TM).” The Emotions and Feelings are a field of study in which I am most interested.

Niamh Clune

Time to put on my “Doctor” hat again and invite you to talk about feelings…This week, I want to raise the issue of thinking versus feeling…

Does your partner profess to being logical, rational, reasonable, in control, whilst declaring your outbursts as emotional, illogical, irrational or unbalanced?

You get the picture…

You try to express yourself, explaining something that you feel. You try to explain a subtle event that passed between you that, on the surface, seemed perfectly logical and reasonable to your partner, yet hurt your feelings, made you feel dismissed, patronised, misunderstood, alone, untouched.

The more you try to explain whatever-it-was-that-hurt-you, the more entangled becomes the argument, the more heated the emotional responses, the more you feel exposed, like a thing being observed at the end of a microscope.

If this is how you feel, your partner despises emotion, disrespects the world of feeling and meaning and has made of…

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Can’t Help But Feel the Pain

Can’t Help But Feel the Pain
by the secret keeper

enchanted woods

Can’t Help But Feel the Pain
By the secret keeper
Written on National Poetry Day

To know first love
Only romantic love
The first time you love
The first time love
Touches you
It is your first time
To know that gentle caress
What is that really like?

What is it really like
When you know
You will never know
That feeling

That feeling
That was stolen
From you
From your body
It can never be returned
The thieves that stole it
Had no concern
They didn’t care
Taking that moment
Away from you
They felt that it was theirs

It is not a moment
That happens but once
When it is stolen
It never happens at all

When true love comes
The touch inside your body
It is gone away
Lost in the ether
Captured by the keeper
Of unsafe moments
The memories locked away
So your body won’t remember
What the thieves did
On all those horrible
Nights and days

If you do remember
They return in nightmares
Wide awake ‘mares
Trampling your mind
With images of pain
And cruelty

Being safe again
And free
Means letting go
Of the pain
The torture
Locked inside
Your body
And in your mind

Scream out the pain
Tear out the thoughts
That cloud your brain
Stop the torture
That keeps you
From trust and love
Believing it is real
Not something
That will hurt
And haunt your soul

Trust good love
Real love
It does exist
Let love in
Don’t run away
Let the bad feelings go
Let the good feelings in

Say goodbye to the torture
And pain from childhood
It needs to come to an end
It is time now to trust
In your friends
They will care for you
And love you
And not hurt you
The way you were
Hurt back then

It really is over
It is time to let love in
And let it stay
And it’s time you
Trusted love
To give some
Of yours away
You do it anyway
You’re just not aware
That you share love
In many different ways

© Jennifer Kiley 2012

You Are Loved (Don’t Give Up)-Josh Groban

Person You Hide

Person You Hide
By The Secret Keeper

person you hide

Source: Uploaded by user via Jody on Pinterest
Elephant Journal Wake Up Call of Your Mind 9.11.12

joyeux anniversaire amy
par le gardien secret

joyeux anniversaire
amy winehouse
vous étiez
né maintenant
vous êtes
presque allé
est allé
la douleur
venir si accablant
quelques pauses
dans le
et la douleur
mais juste
une distraction
avant d’entrer
dans l’autre
vie de vie
pour un instant
la porte ferme
quelqu’un veut
qu’il a rapproché
la sécurité
un spécial
quelqu’un leur
présence est sue
et tendant
il y a
une coupure
dans la connexion
que le satellite
déclenche vous
ils s’assurent
que cela est
la sensation
rien tout
seul seulement
la douleur
la proie facile
être dévoré
la mort
de besoin
de sensations
les sens pas
capable de fermer
les pensées
un jour
juste glissera
loin à l’autre
qui y
va avant
de c’est le temps
est que
aucune lutte
l’est présumé
pour être le temps
pour aller
juste part

November Rain-Guns N’ Roses

Don’t Cry-Guns N’Roses

Knockin’ On Heavens Door-Guns N’ Roses

Dedicated to M…She is my past but so difficult to let go of her. When she left I didn’t think anyone would make me want to trust or be alive again. There is someone. More than someone. But the lost child inside of me cannot find the satisfaction from all the loss and abandonment. The feelings slip away into a foggy memory that is lost in some other world. If not renewed it cannot be found. It is too frustrating for those who try to reach me, I can’t imagine why they don’t want to just give up. It seems as though I keep giving up and giving in to the depression that takes over my being. The suicidal feelings are getting more powerful. I thought they would diminish but the stronger the love the stronger the hold that death has on my soul. This is serious that I feel this way. Nothing seems to draw me away from the flame. I am the butterfly. I need to fly away and get carried away by the wind. Let it carry me to whereever the end of the rainbow finds a place to set down.