Strength Through Pain

Untitled Part 1

You taught me that to be strong I had to smile

 That mascara running down my face like a black river was to only flow in the comfort of myself

 You taught me that the word depression was supposed to be whispered

 And my laughs should always be heard loud and clear

You taught me that only one emotion should exist within my mind and that emotion is happiness

 And when I was lost I had to run to the comfort of a fake smile even when I was out of breath

 You taught me that I should hide the past five years of my life

 The five years’ worth of scars on my body should be covered

 I should be ashamed of my emotions, and not bother you with them

 Not burden you with the sound of my cry, my cry for help

 You taught me to sit with my hands folded in my lap

 Biting my tongue and clawing at my palms

 You taught me that was comfort

 You taught me how to be a lady

 You taught me how to cover my body in dresses and makeup instead of cuts and burns,

 And never cry in public

 The tears I cried hit like bullets on the ground, ricocheting and harming those around me

 You taught me that the line between strength and “pretty” isn’t really a line at all

 And if my shoulders slouched and the corners of my mouth turned down, then I was weak

You taught me the definition of “weak”

You taught me that weak is vulnerable and vulnerability was something I should hide

 Along with my scars and my frown

 You made me learn the feeling of my heart plummeting down into the depth of my body

 The feeling of evaluating my own life

 Because you’d already made your evaluation

 Emotionally unstable? Check

 Self-destructive? Check

 Not worth your time, or anyone’s time? Check

 Too sensitive? Check

 Crazy? Check: Unworthy? Check: Powerless? Check: Weak? Check

 Strong? No check

 The moment I knew I was broken, was the moment he held me and tears still fell

 When my mother reached for my hand and I denied her comfort

 The moment I was blinded by his eyes and I took another pill

 The moment I realized how much it took to keep breathing

 The moment safety was in reach but I ignored it and turned my back

 The moment he kissed my scars but all I could see behind my eyelids was my own blood

I loved him

The moment everyone was gone, and I had to pick myself up off of the bathroom floor

 That was the moment I understood

  The moment I taught myself the real definition of strength

 Girls aren’t always ladies and I don’t always fit in your dresses

 My scars need to see the sun to, and my mouth gets tired of smiling

 I taught myself that crying in public was okay, and the cold tile on a bathroom floor is comforting

Sometimes more comforting than his arms

My tears are the same in public as they are in private

 My tears don’t make noise when they hit the ground

 My tears are just that: tears

 I taught myself that I’m still pretty when I cry

 I taught myself that a smile should only be called a smile when it is real,

I taught myself that it’s okay to feel pain when the feeling is at least real.