A Healing Journey by neverstaybroken

037 – The Best Poem I Ever Read

July 12th, 2026

The best poem I ever read
Was that little bit of time
When we belonged to each other

And now that we no longer do,
It seems to me
I understand it now
Better than I did before

*********************

Our poem had its faults
That I dared not to see
And the writing went crooked
In places

There were times it went blank
When we needed it most
And we wrote it
On crumpled up pages

And the pencil went dull
It would crumble and snap
We would sharpen it
But it got short way too fast

And it seems that
We couldn’t decide who would write it
Instead of conceding
We wanted to fight it

Our poem went too deep
I don’t think I was ready
For the truth
That we put into words

And if we wrote it down
For the other to read
We regretted it
Once it was heard

Sometimes it got real
And we both felt attacked
We began to unfeel
And began to hold back

We began to pick out
Just how much of ourselves
We could show to the other
How much we would tell

And the next thing we knew
We had run out of lines
There was nothing left
For us to do

And the next thing we knew
We had run out of time
And our love poem
Began to bleed through

And yet, looking back
It’s the best poem I’ve read
And it told me
The things that I needed

And once in a while
I open our book
There’s still love
In our poem when I read it

Once in a while
I dare take that look
There’s still love in our poem
When I read it

Leave a comment Cancel reply

036 – Catch & Release

July 11th, 2026

And it seems like my soul
Had been searching for years
And the years became cold
And the eons bred tears
And the atoms exploded
Like breaking a mirror
Splitting over
And over again

Reaching out through all time
For a body to be in
For solace and life
And somebody to free it
Just falling and fighting
For someone to be with
Not knowing
Quite where, how, or when

When a light started shining
Way out in the distance
Incredible timing
And weathered persistence
In front, now behind
In its playful resistance
My soul dared
To reach out and pray

But the light was so much
It was brighter and free
And it hurt just to touch
It was fire to see
My soul burned and it suffered
But came to believe
It could not
Let the light fade away

So my soul tried to grab it
A thief as it passed
Tried to hold it and have it
The light was too fast
And it broke into fragments
And fragments don’t last
No, they can’t
Hold together in space

It was then, only then
In the ether of black
As my soul spun around
And it turned to look back
In that frozen split-second
That stretched til it cracked
That it saw
All the light had not gone

No, a piece stayed behind
It was frazzled and rough
But it served to remind
Just enough, just enough
That our fragment of time
Spent together had love
And our love
Gave us strength to go on

The light doesn’t have to
Be with us forever
We’re just as good separate
As we are together
As long as we love
And we dare to remember
There always comes
Light with the dawn

Their light doesn’t have to
Stay with us forever
We get to move on
And we get to be better
We learn from the time
That we all had together
There ALWAYS
Comes light with the dawn

Leave a comment Cancel reply

035 – Love. Death.

July 3rd, 2026

Why is love so much

more bitter than death?

a pill on my tongue

that never dissolves, digs

into my taste buds

with searing teeth

death holds in its

tendriled fingers the promise

of an end, the

sacred truth of finality

but love is a resurrection,

sporadic and unknown

and rarely complete,

Lazarus with splints

on his calloused and

bloodied hands

why is love so much

more bitter than death?

because love can die many times,

but it can never die

more times than

it is born

*********************

Taken from “Making my Amends to the Dead”, available on Amazon.

Leave a comment Cancel reply

034 – The Abuse We Already Know (And the Safety We Don’t)

July 3rd, 2026

Turns out all I ever had to do in order to start healing, was believe that I could.

So why did it take me until I was in my 40s to earnestly start the process?

Because sometimes, believing in ourselves is the hardest thing to do. We’re raised by parents who weren’t raised. We’re surrounded by people who were never taught to believe in themselves.

And we can’t teach the things we never learned.

Take a moment and repeat after me. Out loud.

“I am worthy of love.”

Go ahead, try it.

“I am strong enough to overcome.”

“I deserve to heal.”

Now, let that sit for a little while. Does it ring true? Listen to your body and let it tell you how it feels.

Again.

“I believe in me.”

Does it feel uncomfortable? Does it feel wrong somehow?

“I believe in me.”

Are you fighting it? Is it hard to say out loud?

“I believe in me.”

Are you actually saying it out loud?

In 1967, a psychologist by the name of Martin Seligman proved that dogs could be conditioned to believe they were unable to escape abusive situations that were, in fact, easily avoided.

All he had to do was make them believe.

During my healing process, I’ve uncovered some highly uncomfortable truths about myself. I was so wrapped up in my cycle of self-defeat, that I completely failed to comprehend I deserved better. I didn’t even know that I could.

I was a dog in a cage, trapped by abuse and self-doubt. And I never once realized the door to safety was wide open.

It’s the same for so many of us. We’re stuck in the same spot, spinning our wheels, never moving, never healing, with no idea why.

But do you truly believe you can? Do you believe you deserve it?

“I am worthy of love.”

“I am strong enough to overcome.”

“I deserve to heal.”

I forgive you, fellow human. I forgive you for doubting yourself. I forgive you for putting up with way too much. I forgive you for your struggles. And I forgive you for accepting less than what you really deserve.

I forgive you for going back to that person who doesn’t treat you right. The one who lets you give and give and never quite seems to return the love.

But the time has arrived for you to escape. The door is wide open. All you have to do is believe.

And walk through.

“I believe in me.”

Try it again.

And again.

“I. Believe. In. Me.”

Leave a comment Cancel reply

033 – Learned Helplessness

June 29th, 2026

Scared animals return home
regardless of whether home is safe

or frightening.

Where is the hand that is
supposed to comfort me?

What became of the once soft voice,
the soothing baritone meant
to promise safety

and protection?

The monsters under the bed
will say nothing.

The devils in my closet
feign ignorance.

Father fights his own demons,
and it seems they win
far more often
than they lose.

Scared animals return home.

When the world becomes
too loud.

When the darkness creeps
too close.

When the monsters run
too fast.

When the Devil’s eyes
burn bright.

Scared animals return home.

When the snakes surround us.

When spiders’ teeth gleam.

Scared animals return home.

Even when home
is where the harm is.

*********************

Note: This poem was based on a quote from “The Body Keeps the Score”, a seminal book on trauma and human behavior by Dutch psychiatrist Bessel Van der Kolk.

You can learn more about his book by clicking here.

You can learn more about the Learned Helplessness experiments by clicking here.

neverstaybroken does not condone the mistreatment of animals for any reason.

Leave a comment Cancel reply

032 – It’s Hard to Kill a Heart Like Mine

June 14th, 2026

It’s a strange thing when you realize your father went missing, years after the fact.

He went missing, but he never actually left.

Walking, talking, breathing, and yet he’d been missing for years. Because he never learned how to be there.

Now, here I am at 41 years old. Doing my best to learn how to be here, not for others but for myself. The product of a father who never knew how to love. So he could never teach it.

Because you can’t give what you don’t have.

My father was taught that love made you vulnerable. Vulnerability was a weakness and weakness was unacceptable. And that core belief was buried so deep, I wonder if he was ever able to see what it was and where it was coming from.

I don’t think he was ever able to see what a beautiful opportunity he had. The opportunity to heal. To give love. To receive love. And to bask in the comfort and warmth that love would bring.

Somewhere along my life journey, I began to see it. I am not weak. I am not unfixable. I am not to be locked away and hidden.

I have a beautiful opportunity.

But it isn’t as simple as reaching out and snatching it. Healing is elusive. Healing is the sword in the stone. There are a thousand old thoughts buried deep in my mind that will rise from the dead at the first hint of danger.

“They seem irritable. You must have done something.”

“It’s your fault. You need to fix this.”

“You need to leave before they hurt you. Because they ARE going to hurt you.”

“Run. Run. Run. Run.”

The pathway to healing is treacherous. Some days it would be too easy to go back to the man I once was.

The difference between me before and me now, is that now I know I CAN. And I want it more than anything.

We are not weak. We are capable.

We are not unfixable. We are learning to heal.

We are not to be locked away and hidden. We are to be loved and celebrated.

I have been torn up and I’ve been called blind. But it doesn’t have to be that way any longer.

It’s hard to kill a heart like mine.

Leave a comment Cancel reply

031 – The Day That You Stop Running

June 6th, 2026

She promises me that I don’t
have to be this way forever

That there is a light
at the end of this journey

If only I continue
to put one foot
in front of the other

There is a strange beauty
in the zig-zag array of cuts
that cross my heart
from one side to the other

Front to back,
sliced top to bottom

“One day at a time,” she says

But sometimes the days are long
and darker than the nights

Many of the cuts
were made by her hand

But it seems many more
were made by my own

One foot in front of the other

One day at a time

Breathe

Just breathe

I must remain with myself
even at my worst

Leave a comment Cancel reply

030 – Ephesians 4:32

May 21st, 2026

Dear God,
I was so small.
What could I have done?

YOU WERE YOUNG, MY CHILD.
THERE IS NOTHING
YOU COULD HAVE DONE.

But God,
I felt so weak.
What could I have said?

YOU WERE VOICELESS, MY CHILD.
THERE IS NOTHING
YOU COULD HAVE SAID.

But God,
I felt so broken.
How could I have known?

THEY SAID NOTHING, MY CHILD.
THERE WAS NO WAY
YOU COULD HAVE KNOWN.

But God,
It still hurts so much.
What am I to do?

FORGIVE THEM
FOR THEIR TRESPASS
AS I’VE FORGIVEN YOU.

YOU’RE NOT AT FAULT.
YOU DID NO WRONG.
I GAVE YOU PAIN
TO MAKE YOU STRONG.

Leave a comment Cancel reply

029 – Lonely As I Am, Together We Cry

May 20th, 2026

I was watching a YouTube video detailing the symptoms and behaviors of adult children of alcoholics. Midway through, the host began explaining how children trapped in an alcoholic household feel like they’re walking a tightrope between love and hate.

There was something about the way she said it, that ripped out a piece of me. As a child, I could never quite trust my father’s expressions of love and approval. No matter how sincere they seemed, they would always, ALWAYS come crashing down. I would be left sprawled out on the ground, wondering what I had done wrong this time.

Eventually I learned it was best to just stay quiet. Stay invisible. Being seen meant being hurt.

For a minute or two, all those emotions came flooding back. The burden was too heavy. And so I cried.

And that’s okay. I had to tell myself I was safe. Nobody was here that could hurt me. It was just me and my inner child. I reminded him that it was okay to cry.

It’s okay to cry.

Give yourself the freedom to hurt. Let yourself process. Hold yourself. Love yourself.

It’s okay to cry.

Leave a comment Cancel reply

028 – That’s Me In the Corner

May 18th, 2026

Truly, there are times when I still feel very broken. I feel like the dung beetle, rolling the waste of my life up a steep and muddy slope. One step forward, then slide.

In all honesty, this is incredibly shortsighted. There was a time when I couldn’t control my drinking. I spent the whole of my days in a full on panic, smothered and choking on a whirlwind of emotions I wasn’t even able to name.

I didn’t know what I was feeling. All I knew was I was afraid. All the time. Yet, I couldn’t admit it.

Well, I’m here to tell you I’m still afraid. I’m afraid in new ways. A little less over here. A little more over there. I’m afraid of change. I’m afraid of love. I’m afraid of trying my hardest and still failing. I’m afraid of losing people. I’m afraid the people I love don’t actually love me back.

I’m afraid of losing myself.

And yet, buried in the smallest corner, in the darkness where only a single sliver of light can get in…

…is hope.

Hope for healing. Hope for recovery. Hope that some day, by the grace of God, I will learn to love myself.

And I won’t need anybody to tell me that I’m okay. I’ll already know.

It’s a long, arduous process. The child in me is still overcoming the abuse he went through all those years ago.

But there is a solution. And I’ve had a taste of it.

I go forward and I slip back. Sometimes it seems like I slip so far, I’m almost back at the bottom again.

I’ve seen the light in the darkness. God help me, I’ve seen it. And I believe it can be mine.

If no one has told you they love you today, I love you. And whatever you’ve done, or think you’ve done, I forgive you.

That goes for you too, inner child.