My parents told me I was born a strong soul,
that some day, I would grow into it.

They did not tell me that one day I would have to live outside my own body to survive the circumstances of everyday life.

That I would lie awake through the night

wandering aimlessly in a mental labyrinth
playing the same scenes of horror from the past.

I did not know I would have to cut out my own heart and sever my own coat of arms to stand on my own.

My anguish and heartache has become a modern conversation piece around the staffroom and the Sunday Potluck.

It’s a sharp black piece of choking onyx,

twisted in odd forms of negative space
solidifying, in the gaps of my shattered world

keeping me together while I was falling apart.

I’ve outgrown it now, but I take it out now and then.
Just to remind myself where I am and where I’ve been.

My heart is reconstructing, developing a stronger scar tissue over the old wound, but sometimes they still bleed.

I have to build up my anger some days just to power through the pain.
Just know all of that is directed inward,
any of the backlash wasn’t intended for you.

I’m sorry that I cannot just be 18 and beautiful.
I’m sorry that you cannot understand.
But I love you for trying.

Please,

Don’t give up on me,
I am just one person.

I have been hurt and
sometimes I pretend to be okay.

This kind of hurt doesn’t go away.

But if you can stay,
I know I can work through the pain,
at least for today.