Brave

They say we bring in the era of the sinners. Perhaps, we do.

I have known sinners who were known for partying and abusing drugs. And just these people sit in math class and draw flowers, curling around signs and fire that swirls around words until they are no longer legible.
I have known sinners who roll in late to class on Monday after a night of drinking too much and kissing too many. They laugh brightly, their mouths stained with regret. They pause long enough before answering questions about their lives in order to veil the stories of the boys and girls who treated them wrong.
I have known sinners who came after me to the washroom after I left in tears. They held paper towels to my red face and listened to my story and filled in silences with their own. After I was done, they redid my makeup; knowing just how to hide evidences of a meltdown.
Drunken fights and sober apologies. Broken vases and hospital trips. We have seen it all. Seen it all and have had motivation, drive and stress for breakfast the next morning. Because if we didn’t, there would be no lunch or dinner.
I tell you, we have seen many bodies. And have learnt to avoid cemeteries. We piece back our joints with barbed wires. If we pretend long enough that it doesn’t hurt, we can almost fool our hearts into believing it.
But today I can’t. Tonight I am smoking cigarette after cigarette as my tears hit the pavement. Tonight this is what my bravery looks like.
~Ritika

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