The burden you carry is not one of poverty or disease. It is one of a heavy heart.
A heart that feels hollow because you have gone through so much and although you emerged victorious on the outside; your heart remained bruised. You did not take the time to look deep inside your heart and medicate where it heals. You did not pour out of the intoxication that came with enduring that painful experience. You did not open up to anyone about how much it hurt when they walked out on you, you didn’t talk about it all because you wanted them to feel that you are strong. You didn’t want them to see you break down. You weren’t so sure that they will not celebrate your misfortunes.
The burden you carry is bleeding that continues after you have plastered the wounds over and over because the wound was never treated. You continue to hide the tears because you think no one else is weeping like you. You avoid certain places because they awaken memories of very painful experiences that you prefer to leave asleep.
You smile all day and sob all night on your pillow. You paint pretty lines on your face to cover up for the bruises that you sustained from the endless beatings. You try to move on because now you earn better but it pulls you back by its thong. The thong whose attachment you did not cut for good.
I wish we could talk it over a cup of coffee. I wish we could share about it, maybe we just might discover that it is more than just you. How about if we all sit down and find solutions and healing together? But all we do is tuck our emotions away and pretend that all is well. All we do is label it names like poverty and disease. We don’t say a thing about the betrayal, the mockery, the humiliation, the struggle to be, the pain of not knowing who we are, and the mystery of a heart that longs to heal for good and learn to live and love again.
This is the real burden you carry.

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