#finally seen

Guilt burdens me—

a knowing evil

for desires I fall to my knees for.

I know I’ve done wrong,

yet I lost myself

in a place I belong to more.

The years will haunt me,

memories clenching my chest

in dark moments.

And yet now I am seen

in ways I needed,

pulled

toward the place

where I belong.

Forgiveness may never come—

nor do I deserve it—

but still,

I wish you the best

for the suffering

Send “💥” to give my muse a forehead kiss. / @dissolvedshadows

Ana had hands like hers.Vaguely, Abigail wondered if it was because of her special circumstances, or if she’d merely been “lucky” enough to have suffered theharsh, nature-conditioning curse of callouses and worn, weather-beaten hands.Abigail had developed callouses from a young age. Her father had deemedidleness akin to a cardinal sin, so as soon as she was able, he’d taught herhow to grow vegetables, harvest them, kill game and prepare it, and even how tomake her own clothing. The Hobbs family did as much as they could on their own.But when Ana’s hands continued to gently wipe away at Abigail’s tears, thatwas when she realized that this was something she couldn’t do onher own. And maybe that had always been the problem. Self-reliance did nottranslate well with internal grief.

“It’s okay,” the older woman whispered.

Ana’s assurance caused Abigail’s posture to ratchet upinto a tense, helpless little knot. She was shivering, shaking, and she cursed the tearsthat welled up in her eyes. When was the last time anyone had ever told herthat?

No more tears, Abigail.You’re not a child anymore.

For the good of yournew family, you must remain strong. Though weeping is a necessary form ofgrief, we shall all be shouldering this pain together.

Closing her eyes, Abigail attempted to drown out Hannibaland her father’s words. It hurt. There was always a physical break in her chest,and she could feel the pain, sharp and cavernous, each time she breathed. Butwhen she heard Ana’s permission to let go – to be weak – something bent inside her resolve and she crumbled akinto sand against the tide, her body sagging along with several harsh, chokingsobs.

Abigail, stop crying.You’re not hurt.

‘Yes,’ hermind screamed, ‘yes, I am.’