‘I am not so broken that I can’t be fixed’. I usually tell myself this when a room suddenly gets too dark, and my breath falls short. When my heart races by a mile in a minute because people keep staring at me awkwardly when I walk into buildings.
“When your phone was eventually discovered, along with the nudes and sexts you’d exchanged with Jekwu, it stuck to its core like chewing gum on jeans.”
Read Blue Umbrella and Suffering Slippers by @eDumebiFavour
https://t.co/RTpMUNeikz
Like the weight on my back had been removed and I could finally run. Like my stomach had loosened up and I could consume a feast.
After so many years of hearing these words pass over my head, this is the first time that I’d listened to it and finally understood.
‘I am not so broken that I can’t be fixed’. I usually tell myself this when a room suddenly gets too dark, and my breath falls short. When my heart races by a mile in a minute because people keep staring at me awkwardly when I walk into buildings.
Not quietly, with the back of my hand pressed against my lips to stifle the sobs but loudly. Like a clog had finally been removed from the base of my throat and I’d discovered how to scream.