Growing up scarred , I hoped no one saw the real heart. The pulse of one that was bleeding in pain – let’s just make this creative and call it a gain. I need to replay this, I need to rewrite this part, the spaces I dismissed when conditions were hard.
No one knew and I made sure of it too. Now I reap the consequences of what I could have been open to. I need to rewrite the story I tell myself daily. I need to rewrite the glory I created with my pains. I need to be selfish with the life I’m living instead of giving cunningly while harboring shame.