I ask them about their past and they shut down.
They can not talk about the pain.
The pain built a wall stone by stone, brick by brick.
Something I have done my whole life.
I understand the pain.
I only understand to a point, as much as they will say.
As much as I have been through.
There are people more messed up than myself.
More in pain.
I will not always fully understand every story, every person, or all the pain.
I know how it is to hurt.
How it is not to have someone.
How it looks to be in pain.
I talk to those that need me most.
Pain can kill.
I, myself, have seen it kill.
I did not understand at the time but they slowly died inside then they just gave up.
Gave in.
Pain does that.
Pain has the power to kill.
The happiest usually has the most pain.
It kills them each day trying to be happy.
It slowly, but surely kills everyone.