The pain of ‘D’

I’m not sure about you but I had my fair share of hopelessness. I swallowed for years the ability to articulate in common tongue, often clearing my throat to let the words cough out without any luck. How come I can hear the engineering of my words but they can not.

So I suffered in silence without victimising myself. I buried myself within me so inner shackles don’t come to surface. I never understood people who have the capacity and comfort to share what they are feeling or what is on their mind. They often also able to narrate their story to not only friends but also to strangers, often sharing intimate details of their life. I rate their courage, maturity and their vulnerability.

What coping strategy did they adopt for themselves to carry their soul in the manner that they do. How much self love did they inject in their veins to circulate self esteem. I have given up in working out answers for all those questions.

On this remarkable day where the world celebrate women, I’m blessed to have inspiring women in my life to bring a smile to my face when shedding tears is often what my insecurities master well.

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About Samra

Poet and fundraiser for humanitarian causes. Lives in London
This entry was posted in My 500 words. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The pain of ‘D’

  1. Bashir says:

    When shedding tears is often
    What my insecurities
    Master well.

    What an agony

  2. Rivera says:

    The heart speaks a language of it’s own.. And the universe hears.
    Blessings, my friend

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