Title: The Weight I Carried Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker stands alone, hands trembling, voice low at first, rising with raw honesty as the confession unfolds.)
Monologue:
I cannot hold it in any longer.
The thing I did… the thing I thought no one would ever know…
it sits inside me, sharp as a blade, and it will not rest.
I betrayed them.
I lied. I stole their trust, piece by piece,
until the truth would have been too heavy for even me to bear.
I told myself it was necessary.
I told myself the end justified the means.
But I was wrong.
It never justifies anything.
(Pauses, voice quivering.)
I have walked among them, smiled, laughed,
while carrying this weight that made every step harder,
every breath a reminder
that I am not the person they believed me to be.
I am not proud.
I am not clever.
I am ashamed—ashamed of what I did,
ashamed of how easily I convinced myself
that my desire mattered more than their lives, their hearts, their trust.
(Voice rises with desperation.)
I am confessing now not for absolution,
not for pardon,
but because silence has become unbearable.
I cannot undo the act.
I cannot take it back.
But maybe—just maybe—if I speak it aloud,
the truth can begin to carve a path out of this darkness.
(Softly, almost whispering.)
Judge me if you must.
Hate me if you can.
I will carry the consequences.
But the lie… the lie is finished.
(The speaker exhales, trembling, as though releasing a part of the soul they have kept hidden for too long.)