Den nya officiella dikttråden.
I never chose the weight I bear,
a memory carved from hands unfair.
The night is quiet, but inside me
echoes a scream no one can see.
Trust feels fragile, like shattered glass,
a stolen future, a broken past.
I wear my smile, but deep below,
a river of pain still aches, still flows.
Yet even through the endless ache,
I rise each day, though bones may shake.
For healing whispers, soft and true:
what happened to me is not who I am—
but surviving is what I do.
KOMPLICERAD
Tjej, 30 år
^ wow! Har du skrivit den?
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