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Nursing student, poet and writer @ Unity College of Nursing Sciences Bwari
Abuja, Nigeria
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Be positive, she says
<p><strong>Be positive, she says</strong></p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><p>She stares at the mirror,</p><p>smiling,</p><p>her head held high,</p><p>and sees only beauty in her reflection.</p><p>She appreciates it,</p><p>then goes on her way.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Be positive, she says,</strong></p><p>as her boss's sharp words</p><p>drain the patience from her.</p><p>She takes it all in,</p><p>calms her breathing,</p><p>puts on an award-winning smile,</p><p>apologizes,</p><p>and returns to work.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Be positive, she says</strong>,</p><p>as her fellow employees isolate her,</p><p>their whispers carrying easily</p><p>through the thin walls of her cubicle.</p><p>She brushes it aside,</p><p>pretends not to notice.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Be positive, she says</strong>,</p><p>as she learns difficult truths.</p><p>She enters her car;</p><p>it breaks down in the middle of the road.</p><p>She's late for an important meeting.</p><p>She's exhausted,</p><p>yet she smiles.</p><p><br/></p><p>It isn't as bright as the last one,</p><p>nor as effortless as the first.</p><p><br/></p><p>She repeats her usual mantra...</p><p><strong>be positive</strong>...</p><p>but this time</p><p>she strains to believe it.</p><p><br/></p><p>The car is towed.</p><p>She walks home.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><p><strong>Be positive.</strong></p><p><br/></p><p>She steps through her front door,</p><p>trying to preserve what little joy remains.</p><p>She opens the refrigerator.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p><br/></p><p>Too tired to cry,</p><p>too weary to think,</p><p>she simply goes to bed.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Be positive</strong>.</p><p><br/></p><p>She wakes up</p><p>and repeats the cycle.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then, one evening,</p><p>she meets with friends.</p><p>She laughs.</p><p>She makes memories.</p><p>She tries her best to participate,</p><p>to be present,</p><p>to feel what everyone else seems to feel so naturally.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><p><strong>Be positive</strong>,</p><p>she keeps chanting.</p><p><br/></p><p>Weeks turn into months.</p><p><br/></p><p>She survives every disappointment,</p><p>every humiliation,</p><p>every lonely dinner,</p><p>every restless night,</p><p>with the same familiar words.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><p><strong>Be positive</strong>.</p><p><br/></p><p>Until one day,</p><p>those around her are left asking questions</p><p>they never thought to ask before.</p><p><br/></p><p>She was smiling, wasn't she?</p><p><br/></p><p>She laughed with us, didn't she?</p><p><br/></p><p>She said she was fine.</p><p><br/></p><p>Positivity was never meant</p><p>to be armour worn until it cuts into the skin.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was never meant</p><p>to silence grief,</p><p>to shame exhaustion,</p><p>to disguise suffering as gratitude.</p><p><br/></p><p>Positivity does not mean</p><p>walking through life untouched by pain.</p><p><br/></p><p>It means allowing yourself to acknowledge the pain,</p><p>to speak of it,</p><p>to ask for help when the burden grows too heavy,</p><p>and to understand that hope is not the denial of darkness.</p><p><br/></p><p>Sometimes,</p><p>the bravest words are not</p><p>I can handle it.</p><p><br/></p><p>Sometimes,</p><p>they are,</p><p><br/></p><p>I am hurting.</p><p><br/></p><p>And perhaps true positivity begins there......</p><p>not in pretending the storm does not exist,</p><p>but in believing</p><p>that no one should have to weather it alone.</p>
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