Was diagnosed with scoliosis a few months back Had to let go of my burdensome backpack When the doctor asked what it contained I opened a bag of sorrow and pain. It's filled of hollow blocks and stones Desperate cries and lack of control Years of disappointment, my back has carried Anxieties that had made me weary All this time, I thought I was strong. That I'd last long That I can tolerate it. That I can live with it. Perhaps I was mistaken when my spine finally gave up. I gave up. I couldn't bear the weight. The doctor said it couldn't be fixed. That it's too late. Years of suffering had finally broke me. And maybe my broken back is what makes me, me.