I wake up every morning in a body that feels too loud The mirror doesn’t lie but it never tells the whole story either They measure me in inches, in color, in the shape of my face They decide who I am before I ever open my mouth I’m not just skin and bone I’m the quiet storm that learned how to stay standing I’m the soft places no one bothered to protect I’m the laughter that still shows up even when it hurts Look past the surface, I’m begging you to see There’s a whole human living in here, breathing, breaking, becoming They call me too much or not enough Too dark, too light, too heavy, too thin, too quiet, too loud They write my name in categories and close the book As if a label could ever hold a soul I’ve walked through rooms where eyes cut deeper than words Where kindness felt like a foreign language I had almost forgotten I carried the weight of every assumption like a second skin And still I kept hoping someone would ask what was underneath I’m not just skin and bone I’m the child who learned to hide the tender parts I’m the adult still learning it’s okay to be seen I’m every scar that turned into a map of survival Look past the surface, I’m begging you to see There’s a whole human living in here, aching, hoping, healing What if we stopped defining each other by the easy parts? What if we looked longer, listened softer, stayed a little longer? What if the first thing we offered was care instead of judgment? What if love wasn’t something we rationed only for the ones who look like us? I have been the outsider looking in I have been the one they whispered about in hallways I have felt the loneliness of being reduced to an outline And I still believe we can do better than this I’m not just skin and bone I’m the quiet courage that shows up after the tears I’m the voice that shakes but still chooses to speak I’m the heart that keeps opening even after it cracks Look past the surface, I’m begging you to see There’s a whole human living in here, loving, longing, rising Wake up See the person in front of you as more than a body More than a race, more than a size, more than a story you invented See the fears they carry, the dreams they guard, the light they still protect See the child they once were and the soul they are becoming We are not just the outside the world decided to judge We are the laughter that survived the hard years We are the hands that still reach even after they’ve been burned We are the soft and the strong living in the same chest I’m not just skin and bone Neither are you Neither is anyone standing next to us on this crowded earth We are the whole story written in blood and breath and hope So let this be the moment we choose differently Let this be the day kindness becomes louder than fear Let compassion be the first language we speak Let love be the thing we practice until it feels natural I’m not just skin and bone I’m everything the world tried to overlook I’m the vulnerable truth and the triumphant rising I’m the call to wake up and see each other clearly From the inside out From the heart that still beats under every label From the soul that refuses to be reduced We are more We have always been more And it is never too late to start treating each other that way Not just skin and bone Not just the surface they decided was enough We are whole We are human We are worthy of care, of compassion, of love Look again Look longer Look with the eyes of someone who remembers what it feels like to be unseen I’m not just skin and bone And neither are you (End)
