Why must we show our pain in ways others can see,
When the true depths of our suffering lies on our sleeve,
Why must blood be spilled, scars be shown,
For own pain to be acknowledged, known.
I don’t believe the world should wait,
For us to hurt ourselves to demonstrate.
The battles we fight, the demons we face,
It shouldn’t have to leave a physical trace.
My pain, your pain, is real, whether it’s seen or not,
It doesn’t need validation through a blood clot,
Let’s break the cycle, set ourselves free,
From the expectations to wear our pain visibly.
We must speak our truth, share our stories,
Without the need for external glories,
Let’s support each other, listen within,
Before the wounds are open, before the skin is thin.
Heartland Echoes 