Undone

Can I tell my story without being dismissed as a victim,

without being told my pain is just a mindset I need to change?

Or being told that was the past yet I feel like I’m constantly running circles to even see the future 

Many times I’m sitting around tables. With people while I often feel like I’m years back not even really in the current moment. I hear the sounds of the conversation yet I’m far away. 

Whether its a comment a scent or just something that makes me feel like that little girl who was locked up in her own mind waiting to be saved 

Can I express what lingers beneath my skin

without my words being twisted,

without the fear that honesty will only make me more alone?

Can I share my wounds without being labeled too sensitive,

while also being told to be stronger?

How much stronger must I be?

I took the beatings.

I endured the _______ ‘s  alone.

I swallowed every cruel word, every betrayal, every silence—

alone. 

Yet I’m still told to be stronger.

But what if I don’t want to be?

What if I actually can’t be? Great now I’m label lazy  and yet a failure 

What if I need softness instead of steel?

What if I need more arms around me,

more voices reassuring me,

more hands reaching for mine?

At this big age, I should be okay right ?

I should have healed by now.

I should be doing more, being more.

Should should should 

I know I need to actually

But the truth is—

I am still that broken little girl,

desperate for someone to fight for her,

to stand for her,

to tell her she is not invisible.

And yet, I have been strong.

Just not in the way the world chooses to see.

I was the strongest 5-year-old I knew,

the bravest 10-year-old,

the most self-sacrificing 15-year-old,

the overcommitted 20-year-old,

the 25-year-old pretending to have it under control,

the 30-year-old unraveling,

and now—

the 35-year-old,

tough, weary,

finally undone.

**edited using chat GPT but my words