To Myself, with Apology and Grace
I’m sorry for the hurt I held
in tender palms, wrapped tight as night;
for every tear I swallowed down,
believing silence was my light.
I’m sorry for the chaos spun,
the storms I weathered just to breathe;
for every wound I bore alone,
each scar a story left beneath.
But listen now, oh heart of mine—
we’re not mere echoes in the dark;
we’ve turned our fear to flickering fire,
and dared to chase a wilder spark.
No longer just a ghost, unseen,
we’re learning now to feel, to be;
we’re carving out our own safe space—
a world that lets us heal and free.
In every step, in every breath,
we walk beyond mere walls of past;
finding in each quiet dawn
a steady peace, a strength that lasts.
So here’s to us—the bruised, the bold—
for we are neither lost nor small;
we’ve learned to build a life of hope,
a world where we can feel it all.
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