The sorrow I know
Is like no other.
It is too deep
Too raw
Too real.
And as I stand here
Within its everlasting clutches
I find little bursts of hope.
And these little burst of light
Inspire me
To push at the sorrow
A little bit more.
With each day
I feel a little bit
Less weak.
Not stronger
But perhaps
A little bit less weak.
It hurts.
Their cruel words digging deep into my soul, planting their roots and taking over.
It hurts.
Hearing them all gossip about me, calling me names I never asked for.
It hurts.
I am… different.
I have chronic pain.
Any time I leave the house,
I use a crutch, a walker, wheelchair, or cane.
People think this is funny.
I get bullied a lot.
From this pain I feel
I am forever changed now
Broken pieces lost
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