From archives, March 7, 2021

Sometimes, you don’t even have a metaphor to describe how you are feeling. It’s just shitty. I’m exhausted inside, tired of holding up my mask because I’m in so much pain. I’m tired of being blamed, being the scapegoat, being the bad one constantly and without fail, no matter what. I’m tired. 

And I can’t let this mask down because I’ll be met with disappointments. They will tell me my tears are fake, as they already have, they will tell me I’m fictitious, as they already have, and it will break me again. 

An excerpt from a poem in [unpublished] Half a Woman

I see right through you. 

What you hide, what you show; 

what you’re feeling in the moment, 
what you think you know. 
I recognize you yet I have never met you before, 
that you want to trust but you don’t, 
that you feel lonely yet stay alone.