it lasts in a strange way.
not always present,
you think you’ve healed.
but it shows up in the form of something else.
how it can mold itself
into the crack of every little thing you question about yourself.
how you subconsciously link it back to the thing you let hurt you.
your inability to be unapologetically you,
because you always find yourself thinking back to those moments she told you
why you weren’t right, and you believed her.