The emptiness inside feels blinding.
But only to me.
I’m tired of hiding.
Ready to let it shine through.
I’m sick of worrying whether or not my pain will make you uncomfortable.
That’s YOUR problem now.
Quite possibly I want you to squirm.
Maybe I want you to feel just a sliver of what has been eating at my insides for so long.
Look me in the eye and face my pain.
Don’t try to fix.
Feel it with me.