A broken compass

There is nothing beautiful about pain.

Nothing beautiful about

Broken hearts

War torn minds

When you’re drowning,

Pain isn’t pretty

It doesn’t make you more of a person

Just less.

Now you’re on solid ground 

Still it beckons

Like the sirens out at sea,

an old lover you can’t quite forget 

There is nothing beautiful about pain

And yet

There is captivation in the depths

Enveloping waves of safety

The quiet power of losing it all 

A broken compass

Stranded between land and sea


I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones.

– Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena