The Woman Inside

Sometimes I stumble
Sometimes I fall
Sometimes I break
Sometimes my heart
is filled with bruises
little scars criss-crossing
it like veins.
Sometimes I wake up to
dry eyes
but stained sheets
Yet I walk again
with a smile on my lips
with my head held high
And no one will know
The woman inside.
I will cherish
each scar
each stumble
each fall
each tear-drop
Because they have
made me the
that I am.
The woman inside.




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