Would you even know

Sarcastically I find myself remaining more and more quiet when others want to talk to me. A bit of sadness holds me but I keep moving forward. Seeing that what I hope for is really an open hug. Yet I do not ask for it. I just remain silent in my mind as the tears fall down.

Humility. A soft kindness that shy, meek one possess. Granted I cannot claim to be anything but quirky and reserved. I uphold myself for so many and say very little to those who break my back. Those who do the harm of a thousand whips. I still remain kind, loving.

Some days it irks me that I am like this. Yet do I change no, I endure. I know the resolve of the broken parts of me will be served by Jehovah. My eyes cry trails but I remain steadfast in who I can be.

Ah just the knowledge of the growth I attain is such a reward for the endurance, the pain. So much I find joy. I have too. Even those days that I cry on end. So many see the smile in front and do not inquire. How, why would they know how. Indeed a settled part of me rips through the fine tapestry. Daring myself to be more vocal. Sadly a wave of pride holds me stunned in silence.

Dare them to inquire and yet I am scared they will. What if what they hear terrifies them? Will they still want to be a part of my life? So the prayer I make every second of the day sees the real me, see the pain. Oh how I cringe in my weakness but also find joy in understanding I am imperfect.

Perhaps expressing my weak state will help people realize I am no one grand but I am someone strong. I take in so much. I am overlooked in so many ways. Still I keep moving forward. Why then would that weigh heavy on my lungs? Squeezing to the point of gasping breaths.

Yes I understand, I won't ask you. I only give you love. Invite you for a hug or extend the warmth of a firm handshake. Indeed I will show my kindness but my tears fall inside of me.

So much of me strives to hold together, and I do. Jehovah.

A leaning. Not a crutch.