I am a good person. A good friend. A good wife. A good mother. Not perfect,just good enough. I will lend out a hand, a shoulder and sometimes a heart. Problem is, sometimes the very heart I lend out gets hurt in the process. I’m a sensitive person, fragile even. Unfortunately I tend to hurt people when I’m hurt. My words are like knives and go deep,I’m not proud of it but that’s who I am. Some people are good at cooking, sports, arts and crafts but me,I’m good at writing. I can lift you up or tear u down with one swift sentence. My mind is heavy with words dying to be written. My heart is waiting to put all my emotion into it. Now if only my mouth could convey the message I want to project without sounding like a horrible person. So instead I will keep it in until my words,feelings and emotions run down my cheeks only to be wiped away and never to be spoken. This is me. My silence is not acceptance, my silence is merely me not being able to say what I feel for the power of those words will change everything about me. About you. About life. Everything.


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