Still Beating

by Jennifer Hartmann

We are bound, chained, tied—to our trauma and to each other. We’re in this together. And yet, I’ve never felt more alone.

It was only three weeks, but it’s burned into every cell, every vein, every tainted pocket of my soul. Forever. And so is she.

She doesn’t need to pretend with me, though. She doesn’t need to hide. I’m here, and I see her—every scar, every flaw, every broken, hollow piece. And I understand.