Silent Scream & Soliloquy

No-one hears the
silent scream
…but me.

The one that screams
out loud the most terrifying
sound but, its happening
from within.

The one that hides behind
the mask you wear for those
who don’t know your worries
…don’t know your

The scream that yells to
God from pain

Shouts at Him in rage

“Hey God…
If this is a test
I’ve had my fill.
I’m sitting this one out.
I’m too tired and too weary
for you to test me anymore.”


The voice of reason inside repeats

If God brings us to it…He will bring you through it.



I need to be strong
(tired of being strong)

I need to be Chloe’s Hero
(tired of being the hero)

I need to provide
(tired of trying to provide)

I need not to have to
(tired of having to)

I need not to need
(tired of needing)

I need a shoulder upon which to lean
(there is no shoulder to lean on)

I need to surrender
(faith allows no surrender)

I need to retreat
(there is no retreat)

So….. I scream the silent scream

And today

Rage at everything and
anything in
angry words that light
the page with a fire
that burns from this
hellish pain I thought
had gone away.

And then

the anger is spent
the scream inside me turns
to calm
silenced once again.


© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

I was always told grieving is a process. All the experts tell us this in clinical, unfeeling terms. I loved deeply, so deeply that when my partner was dying, I felt a part of myself dying with her too. In fact I didn’t realise it until a very long time afterwards that yes, if we love that ‘soul-deep’ type of unconditional  love, a part of us does indeed die with the person who has passed.
I was so cynical about their cold ‘grieving’ process. How can they possibly describe that type of intense pain… the kind that feels as if someone has reached into your chest, ripped out your heart and left a wide gaping wound that no amount of time will ever heal and yet… they are right. Grieving is a process (for all it’s cold clinical terms)
I went through a year or more before I actually began to really grieve. For various reasons I’d had no choice but to live purely on fear, and fear alone for far too long. So long in fact, I had entirely forgotten what any other emotions felt like and had to then re-learn what it was to share joy and laughter again.
Once I was able to change our lives and in that way to let the very real fear I’d been forced by circumstances to live in go I then focused on my loss and I really began to grieve. I would suddenly have such an overwhelming rage. It would just rise up out of the blue and I had to be so careful because I would want to shout and scream and rage and lash out at anyone and everyone for my hurting. For the heartache.
And, that was when I turned inward, seeking answers to why love hurts, why God is so unkind, He takes away your joy, your blissful happiness and replaces it with raw and savage anger and a literal feeling of a broken-hearted aching pain in your chest and yet…
if we are lucky and we can go deep enough, we learn then that the pain we wish to have taken away, given away…. push away, is equal and the same as the joy of the love we shared. It is all a part of the same circle. We cannot give it away. It is ours. We enjoyed the pleasure of its love, but to enjoy love fully, we must always also end with knowing its pain.
Always been such a deep thinker (sometimes I think, I think too much) A friend of mine once told me I was talking rubbish when I said with all logic ‘Love cannot fail to hurt us”
She argued “love never hurts”
But, my point was that: Sooner or later, through illness, death, whatever, even if we spend a whole lifetime with someone, at some point, one or the other one get sick and we know the pain of watching them, or passes on, and one is left behind and knows the pain of loss, therefore, love cannot fail to hurt for whatever reason, eventually.

Anyway, although I believe in a higher power, I’ve never believed in any ‘organised’ religion. It took me over two years of deep introspection, and many prayers, much searching and seeking answers from God/The Gods and many moments of what my friends tell me have been ‘epiphany’ moments.  (These were moments that allowed me to see with so much more clarity, the ordinary, everyday things that are miracles in life, that through our rush to live our lives, we miss occurring all around us. We miss the point that life truly is a miracle, and such a precious gift and each of us is not an ‘I’ we are all ‘we’ and ‘we’ are all a part of the ‘cosmic oneness, an atom, connected to everything that exists everywhere.) And days when all alone on our favourite beach where I screamed and yelled to God and cried in pain and temper and prayers at the world and then I surrendered all the fight I had in me. Too tired to fight to survive anymore and all this had to happen before I was able to reconcile my anger/rages and realise that instead of pushing that dreadful pain away, I had to ‘own’ it. I had to open my arms and pull it into me and be glad to embrace it as being mine and, mine alone. I lived that love, I loved that love, I learned that love and, I discovered so much more about myself and having gone so deep, I found that universal light that resides in us all and in that depth of thinking/deepest meditation… I grew myself, and went through my own (like the Phoenix bird in my home page) re-birth again, on a much more spiritual basis than I had ever been before.

We all grieve differently, these two pieces I entered for dVerse Poets are just a part of what I went through as I learned to walk through the very real and, very long dark tunnel of the fog of grief. We never have to get over it, we do have to somehow learn to walk through it to get to the other side and come out of it (hopefully) re-born ourselves.

If this helps just ‘one’ someone else, I will be glad I posted and shared these thoughts today.

Shared with dVersePoets Poetics #Conversation/s

Author: Daydreamer

I live on a beautiful island in Atlantic Canada.

29 thoughts on “Silent Scream & Soliloquy”

  1. I know you know I know. Sometimes it hits when you least expect it and think, I thought I moved on. That silent scream is deafening. Very well written. Hugs you.

  2. My dear fellow-blogger,

    These poems are rife with the truths that make your grief yours alone. I am very moved by them, and as widow of less than two and a half years, I could have written your message in words of my own. Writing about my loss saved my life. I have a collection of poems about losing Clint. I worked through some of my anger by breaking things. I went out and bought small, breakable items, brought them home, tucked one into a paper bag and placed it in a plastic bag. Then I took it out to the driveway and beat the living shit out of it. In fact, I broke something just the other day. The anger still grabs me at times.

    I am going to print these poems and put them in my journal – all credit to you, of course. I am your sister in grief, and I will send positive energy your way every time I pray.


  3. OMG! I think this is the most soul felt write I have ever read! Ever! To have been able to find someone that you could love so deeply was a priceless gift! That kind of love never dies but lives on. I have never had a love like that in my life so I can never understand that level of loss either! Thank You for sharing this most vibrant post! Grateful too, that you made it through to the other side! Hugs!

  4. Thank you for your brave personal notes in addition to the poem that took us on your journey back. I know that journey. Indeed I was never older than when I watched my husband die. I felt as though time flowed backwards in some ways after that allowing me to get back from the “oldest I will ever be” moment to the age I really was. The need and the love never dwindles, the void is never really filled, but the joy of living continues.

    The best advice given to me afterwards was take all advice from those who have been there. Plan new adventures, take new risks, think differently, fill your life with giving rather than needing. I didn’t want “groups” but they work for some people. I wanted diversity. I found it. I traveled, I went to work, I invested myself in my music and my art, I threw parties and I let myself feel. I found love comes in many guises and is free-flowing among friends and relatives that you trust. God’s love is best found in other living things. It reinforces you and holds you up and keeps you vital. Good luck and thanks for sharing this intimacy with us. Very brave!

  5. Wow …. that hurts and touches a tender spot within ..and for me it’s been 23 years with crap happening since but hey we cope and carry on ( still get angry in churchyards tho ) ….perhaps in hope the next 23 years my cards will be more favourable as I hope yours will too …great and painful write …x

  6. Good poetry is about movement and your poems moved me..the raw honesty in the words I felt as I too have carried that silent scream..until one day it’s gone..

    thank you for posting your thoughts as well..

  7. Bren,
    when I read your two poems, I felt, my goodness, she’s inside my brain.
    Also, I will share them with my daughter…she spoke in so many similar words and phrases earlier today and in the past few weeks. It is about health issues, raising teenagers, but end of the rope issues/feelings.

    And as I read further, I realize how much pain you have been in. And as one of those “cold clinical teachers” I realize that no one knows what it is to feel a profound loss of a love like you have unless they’ve been there. I learned that from others who have told me, after a loss of a long time spouse, no one can tell me what it feels like unless they’ve been there…a profound truth.
    Thank you for sharing. I know your grieving is still evolving and life does go on while one still is deeply wounded.
    Peace and love…
    I feel deeply you have touched many as you have touched me tonite.
    Siggi in Downeast Maine

  8. Your words echo the screams that have resided in my soul & heart since the tragic suicide of my older son 5 years ago. The journey through grief is different for each of us, and somehow it does help to know others who are on the sad journey and they do somehow survive, although accept that one never will get over it.

  9. And then there are days when the scream rips through every fiber of your being with absolute silence and lingers forever. Grieving is a process. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to read your entire post. It is too close to raw emotions of my own. I am sure it is an amazing write.


  10. I honestly don’t even know how to reply to this. The emotions were so raw. It told an amazingly sad story. I just loved this. Really. Thanks so much for the write.

  11. Thank you for sharing your pain and your grief and we do not need to get over it, but we learn to gradually adapt and life can be good again.

  12. Wow! Amazing piece no smart remark for this one, truly inspiring and yes there comes a point where we all see a bit more clearly, that I will fully agree with, been there once.

  13. Thank you for this post and the poems. I always think that in loving someone, you always give away a bit of yourself and that bit is in that person you love; so when something happens to them, a bit of you feels ripped away. It’s easy to talk about wholeness and spiritual realms where nothing is ever lost, but that person is no longer within the reach we have them at. The steps without is heavy.

  14. I agree that we never have to get over it, but we have to walk through it. There is no alternative; and we are strong enough to do it. “The other” would have wanted us to. I hear you: I am tired of God’s tests too. I just want a period of joy for a while, with no worries. I do think we need to rage, have every right to rage. But after we rage, we have to put one foot in front of the other. How well I identify with your words, Daydreamer. But then you would know that.

  15. the best part is the soliloquy when you answer yourself. when you answer yourself, does it then become a dialogue???

  16. You plumb the depths of grief, daydreamer. Yes, it is a process, but as one of those formerly “clinical” people, I’d have to say it never really ends. If I were still working hospice, I’d want to ask you to share these with my patients and their families. No one can ever experience what another is going through…we can only be there. Maybe somewhere down the road a piece, you would want to be a volunteer to help other who are grieving. Going through it, you have the wisdom and a unique gift. Blessings.

  17. Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself with us. I was deeply touched by both poems and really appreciate the following monologue. It’s hard to find hope/faith when dealing with death. I experienced similar feelings when my soul sister killed herself one day out of the blue. In March it’ss be 4 years, and it’s something I think about most days…

  18. ‘if we are lucky and we can go deep enough, we learn then that the pain we wish to have taken away, given away…. push away, is equal and the same as the joy of the love we shared.’ ~ two sides of the same coin ~ ty for sharing what was so deeply personal for you ~ you’re right you don’t ‘get over’ but somehow ‘come through’ the hurdles lessen but still catch unawares ~
    Wonderful ~
    deserves a extra warm hug (( )) Lib

  19. Holy crap Bren! This is amazing. Thank you so very much for sharing such a personal and very real piece of you with us. These dark nights of the soul, when faith and hope are tested to the point you risk losing all, are what makes the faith and hope so worth the battle. You have been truly blessed to have loved in such a way. And I think, to truly appreciate and feel that love, it must be taken away. You are so right about the cycle, I feel that too. But as the process evolves, so to will the love, respect and admiration of your soul mate. She will live a long and vibrant life within these words you’ve penned, and I’m sure many will find solace in knowing they are not alone. I champion your post here this evening. Well spoke! (And my humble apologies if I have rambled long or have taken too much liberty with your words.)

  20. amazing line… if God brings us to it, He will bring you through it…this is SO powerful, terrific words of comfort really, thank you I needed to hear this

  21. this is a great conversation w/the Self, soliloquy. and of course, we all have these conversations with a god, or God, or our own egos. and the woes of the speaker are so great. ‘gimme a break!’ resounds throughout. Love this poem.

  22. I so needed to read this and have just begun to embrace pain rather than run from it. It is so hard but at least healing is the result rather than suffering in vain.

  23. strong pieces both…each one of us i think finds this point…each is different…mine was a systematic stripping away of everything that i thought was stable over a 3 year period…i felt like job honestly…but i feel this…and he will carry us when we realize our strength is not needed…

  24. i was there…running up a hill in pouring rain and screaming god into the face because i just didn’t understand…this was when my youngest daughter was very sick for a long time and i was at the edge of what i thought i can carry…but this was the day i met him…and nothing changed but i knew he would carry me through..and he…can really feel you in this..

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