Suitcase

I’m tired. I am desperately tired of watching people that carry wounds from their childhood into adulthood. They cover themselves in shame like a cloak. A raggedy patchwork cloak that they had no hand in making. And yet they let it cover them completely. Worse they let it define them and their future. I am no different, I wore the cloak of shame for too many years. Before I realized that it was not mine to wear.

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