By Faith Mondester
Every scar tells a story,
Every tear holds a truth—
But no one seems to care,
No one asks how it began.
Crying has become routine,
A sorrow stitched into her days.
Breakdowns come in waves,
Yet no one sees her tears.
Demeaning words cut deeper
Than any sharpened blade.
Insults leave lasting wounds—
Pain misunderstood, unheard.
The ache returns, again, again,
Each time sharper than before.
Still, she wishes for a turning point—
A chance to smile once more.
-The poet is a student on attachment at Kisii Press Club