Resilience is supposed to be impressive
The ability to maintain a stiff upper lip and dry eyes In the face of fear, resentment, or disappointment
Being able to look at hurt and say
"It wasn't that bad, I'll get up again"
But at what point does resilience become masochism?
When do you stop looking strong, only to look foolish?
Re-run after re-run, knees bruised and bloody
Palms scraped up from catching myself
Only to come to a dead stop,
At what point have i turned from the picture of resilience
To the picture of inhumanity?
My palms and knees burn from the past
But i know this is not where it really hurts
For the first time, i want to know her i want to give my hurt a name, I want her to tell her story And show me where she comes from
