The Weight No One Sees

 Some wounds don't bleed. Some aches don't scream. And some of us walk around looking fine, smiling, even while quietly falling apart inside. 

There are days when I feel like I'm holding the weight of thousand invisible things. Words never said. Accusations I didn't deserve. The ache of being misunderstood in a world that only sees surface. 

No one tells you how heavy it is to keep showing up. To keep being kind when your heart is sore. To keep loving when the ones you hoped would protect you become the source of your pain. 

Lately, my memory has been playing tricks on me. I forget things I should remember and remember things I wish I could forget. 

Sometimes, I can't tell if I dreamt it, lived it, or just imagined it, because my soul needed to feel something soft for a while. 

Trauma does that. So does longing. 

And then there's that part of me... The one that still reaches, quietly, for the love I never got. 

That soft part of me that just wants to be held without judgement, seen without having to perform. 

One that isn't perfect, because I wasn't created to be.