It hurts to be human
not the sharp kind of hurt,
but the quiet kind –
the kind that feels heavy, but you're conciliatory.
I don't pretend, I feel it.
It hurts to have been neglected
to continue to hand out kindness,
to get back indifference,
But you still start to wonder
If you’ve got used to having too little.
It hurts to be overlooked
to stand in a room where voices are being heard,
but yours doesn't count.
To give pieces of yourself
and watch them pass over people
as if you’re invisible.
To know you’re capable of being seen
yet you live in the shadow.
but still –
you wake up,
you breathe,
and you hope.
And in that hope
there’s something brave,
something that sits stubbornly,
in fact, it's something beautifully human.
Because even when it hurts,
you know you're still here.
and that means something – because – you survived.
– Ilana Estelle