Honesty

I have long struggled with pacifying my emotions in order to uphold a facade. Though I am afraid of what others might think or how my pain may overwhelm them, I too am afraid of my truth sometimes. That is one of the many reasons that I love to write. For me, writing inspires honesty.

I often put down my pen in horror at what I've written

Even I am astonished by the pain expressed so explicitly within these solid lines

Seemingly a pain that refuses to materialize in my quotidian consciousness

Nor in my interactions

Nor in the narratives that I tell myself to make the pain feel tolerable

To shrink it down so that it doesn't become me

No.

I refuse to let it become me.

I reserve it to these pages

I allow my pen to describe the feelings that even I am too afraid to feel

To break that wall of respectability and composure that I know I must embody

You see the parts of me that I aspire to be

Someone who has overcome the hurt that looms in her past

Someone whose grief does not hold her hostage to her future

I try to convince myself that that is my truth

And fail, I do

For here lies it all

The ugly

The ugly

The ugly