are you really fine?

when everything looks perfect and beautiful, but there is a rip, a tear, a gaping hole in the fabric of your being—your life slowly unravelling, but you don’t know how to ask for help, or you are too ashamed, too scared, too numb, and you have made an entire life out of hiding things behind rose pink filters.

start by being honest with yourself, start by naming it, start by seeing it for what it is.

you are not alone.

{detail on the vintage apron on which i am stitching my poetry, alongside words and phrases used in the domestic violence narrative}

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