I was the one still standing when the room went cold and still The one answering the phone calls The one signing every bill I carried everybody’s gravity like chains around my lungs Kept the ceiling from collapsing while the whole world came undone And they said “You’re so strong” like that was supposed to save me Like survival was a kindness and not just another way to bleed ’Cause I was resilient and exhausted Disciplined and self-destructive Compassionate and isolating Stubborn and overwhelmed I learned how to keep moving even when I disappeared Smile like nothing’s breaking while drowning in the fear I know how to make coffee while my whole life burns apart Know how to hold a trembling hand with a hurricane in my heart And afterward the cost came due Not all at once Just slow enough to live through A little in the silence A little in my sleep A little every time somebody says “You’ve gotta stay strong for me” And God, I got so tired of being the one who survives Like everybody needed pieces of me just to stay alive So I started walking city streets with static in my veins Let the night swallow my shadow Let the whiskey dull the pain But somewhere in the wreckage something dangerous began A voice beneath the bruises A fire beneath the skin Not softer Not kinder Not weaker when afraid Something ancient standing guard over every shattered thing I made And she says “Keep breathing. Keep moving. Not yet.” So I do.
