Layla South
10-03-2007, 04:09 PM
I can never tell you
I can never tell you the truth.
I am not well.
Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
I ache. I am empty inside. I yearn and I hunger and I fear - oh, how much I fear!
There are so many people who want to hurt me. Some of them are just doing their jobs. But their job is to hurt me. Some of them want to hurt me because it gives them sick joy.
I live with the weight of this fear. Every day. To the world, I am a whore. I must be stopped. To the world, I am hurting their families, their neighborhoods, their businesses. I am doing none of these things. I am surviving. I am feeding my family, living quietly in my neighborhood, running my business.
I get sick and I can't tell you. I have my period. I have a cold. My back has been injured. Someone hit me last night. I haven't had enough sleep. I'm worried about my kids. Oh yes, and the omnipresent fear.
But I paste on my happy face for you. I shove down the fear and the sickness and the misery and the pain, push it deep into a place that you can't touch. I can't even touch it myself.
I smile for you, and in that moment, when we are together, I think of nothing else but you. You are my world. I cling to you, to that reality.
I swore I would never tell you.
but I just did
I can never tell you the truth.
I am not well.
Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
I ache. I am empty inside. I yearn and I hunger and I fear - oh, how much I fear!
There are so many people who want to hurt me. Some of them are just doing their jobs. But their job is to hurt me. Some of them want to hurt me because it gives them sick joy.
I live with the weight of this fear. Every day. To the world, I am a whore. I must be stopped. To the world, I am hurting their families, their neighborhoods, their businesses. I am doing none of these things. I am surviving. I am feeding my family, living quietly in my neighborhood, running my business.
I get sick and I can't tell you. I have my period. I have a cold. My back has been injured. Someone hit me last night. I haven't had enough sleep. I'm worried about my kids. Oh yes, and the omnipresent fear.
But I paste on my happy face for you. I shove down the fear and the sickness and the misery and the pain, push it deep into a place that you can't touch. I can't even touch it myself.
I smile for you, and in that moment, when we are together, I think of nothing else but you. You are my world. I cling to you, to that reality.
I swore I would never tell you.
but I just did