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I am slowly healing from that wound that had troubled me all this years. I’ve taken a look at it and it’s ugly, weeping red under the layers of band-aids I’ve placed over the years. The first time I’ve paid it attention because I could no longer ignore it. I peeled off the edges of the band-aid holding back tears and fears and when I saw it all. I knew it was bad but will not kill me. It was horrible but it would heal, it would but with time. I knew this and I cried. Something released inside of me which had been tightly coiled.
The wound is raw, sore and tender to the touch and I can’t wait till it scar; to feel that patch of skin and not come away with pain, only the texture of my history.
Those moments have become part of me not broken me. For now, I will flush the wound, apply some medicine and limp away looking towards another day. Just one day at a time. One single day.
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Replynot reading allat
Replydid anybody ask you too? did anybody ask you to comment? weird behaviour.
ReplyThis has healed my heart. Brilliant writer. Poet of deep introspection and wisdom. Beautiful words of courage and dignity! I do very much respect your resilience and fortitude!
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