It's okay to say it.

Burdens are concealed wounds we cover to avoid questions. Although they mark our flesh and scar our hearts we put on ceramic skin that appears to be without blemish. We are quick to let someone else tell us what their struggles are- but reluctant to spill the strains of our beasts. It is easier to allow others to be broken and bloody while we pretend to have it all together. We appreciate the honesty like scavengers of remains but forget to admit our lacerations as they devour us from within. Soon we will be dust. Ashes that have slowly been forgotten. Memories that are distant and decaying. Nothing but a story told every once in a while. They will know the curse of our deceit and the fallibility of our souls. Don't leave them wishing they had known. Don't leave them wondering if it could have been different. Don't leave them under false pretenses of who you really were. They will know you were only human too.