They unearthed me like a secret they couldn’t bear to keep, unready, unwilling. As I stood there, bare-souled, Like love was a crime to confess. words trembling on my tongue. I whispered, “I’m human. I feel. Be gentle.” But my plea dissolved in the silence.
They looked through me, not as kin, not as blood, but as something broken, a stranger,a sinner,a shame. So I unhooked my heart, learned to float through the ache,
Years of silence, Wrapped in cold shoulders. Now they ask: "Why don’t you call?" "Why don’t you text?" Strange, isn't it? How absence echoes louder than presence ever did.
And still, I carry on, not untouched, but unbroken.