pain. pain. pain, and more pain.
she held it in.
beaten. whipped. cut and burned.
she held it in.
until she could no longer hold it in.
she cried.
she wailed, her hurt carried by the clouds,
her fury carried by the winds.
destruction was left in her wake.
she crushed the earth beneath those who cut her,
she spun the winds at those who burned her.
she mourned the ones she hurt, pampered the ones who survived.
but her children never learned.
she gave them her gifts,
gave them her love.
they took it, took it all -
but the cycle continued.
pain. pain. pain, and more pain.
she held it in.
beaten. whipped. cut and burned.
she held it in.
⚘--𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊--ღ
thoughts?
interpretations?
jokes?
let it happen.

YOU ARE READING
bittersweet
Non-Fiction"life is our own bittersweet experience, weaved together to form us. there is always something to be sad about, but there is always something to be happy about. death is bittersweet too - you are leaving everything behind, and embracing the afterlif...