“Post a time when you were at your lowest but no one noticed”
But the thing is when I was at my lowest, I never hid it, at least not in the long run
I let the blood from my struggles pour from my eyes,
It runs down my arms in vein-like trails and seeps into the creases of my palms
It runs down my fingers, filling the whorls and arches of my prints
Every touch contaminates and floods
I spread it on the surfaces, smearing and painting with red: startling like a cardinal in snow and thicker than wine
At times I regret being so open, thinking I should just keep things to myself
But that would be to go against my nature
To go against my deep desire for those I love to know every single intimate part of me;
To see me at my weakest.
Maybe it’s because there aren’t any secrets then
It’s just me showing the world that when im strong, im strong,
And when I’m weak, I’m weak.
I suppose I don’t feel the need to hide how I'm feeling or what I am going through.
To hide it would be far too much work
And I don’t have the energy to hide.