I am

I am the child who sat too still, Afraid to speak, but aching to. I am the echo in an empty room, The softest “why” no one heard through. I am the hope that cracked, not broke, The laughter caught inside my throat. I am the hands that reached for light And found the dark—but held on tight. I’ve worn the weight of others’ dreams, Tried to be more than what I seemed. I’ve been the storm, I’ve been the shore, I’ve closed my heart, then begged for more. I am the truth I used to fear, The silent scream, the unshed tear. But I am also morning’s grace— The strength it takes to show your face. I am the mess, the fight, the scar, The love that stayed from way too far. Not perfect, pure, or made to shine— Just human. Flawed. And still divine.