It Never Truly Left
In early years there are hands
hands that are warm
That give you comfort
That wrap around you like protective vines
Vines that feel like a hug before you knew the word
But you grow
Bigger
Smarter
More curious
The hands change
They cool
They cool into metal chains
Constricting you
Your thoughts
Your body
Your growth
For a while, you keep looking backward
You replay the warmth they once gave you
From gentle to becoming a thing an escape is needed from
The more you dwell, the more you question
Why you?
Acceptance. Hard.
Change. Hard.
Harder is seeing others who still have hands
Hands that did not become chains
Hands that allowed them to grow
Very quickly you find yourself at the top of a mountain built off of resentment and jealousy
Staring only down at the outskirts
Of everything lost
Of everything hurtful
Of everything at the darkest moments
Thinking what's down there is next to come
But Before the outskirts come the core
So if you look down, right down, beneath you
A strangely familiar feeling may erupt
A feeling that can’t be taken away
That gives warmth
That gives comfort
although, its different
It is not the warmth that is familiar about it
It is what it is built from
The core uplifting you
is the support of your growth
your lessons
Your intelligence
Your education
Losing the hands to growth never meant the growth wouldn’t give you something greater
something that cannot be taken away
Something that cannot be compared
but it is easily missed it if you do not look down
It doesn’t just give you warmth
It shows you what your built from
And the resilience you do not recognize
Because you are way more than the outskirts you limit yourself to
Copyright © Layla Alibhai | Year Posted 2026
|