What I Didn't Outgrow

I learned silence before I learned my name Spoke in rooms where nobody came Kept my hurt in a folded shape So nobody could see it break I got good at disappearing slow At smiling like I didn’t know What it meant to want too much And still never feel enough There’s a version of me I left behind Still knocking sometimes in my mind I didn’t outgrow what made me bend I just learned where not to let it end And every piece I thought I lost Was just the cost of staying soft I carry it I carry it still Not as a wound But as a will (..but as a will) I don’t blame the shape I became Every fracture learned my name Even pain has a way of teaching If you listen instead of reaching There were nights I almost went clean Erased everything in between But something in me wouldn’t go Even when I told it no And I still hear what I used to be Talking like it still is me I didn’t outgrow what made me bend I just learned where not to let it end And every piece I thought I lost Was just the cost of staying soft I carry it I carry it still Not as a wound But as a will (...but as a will) I survived it I survived it That’s not the same as leaving it I didn’t outgrow what made me bend It became the way I understand And every ghost I thought I crossed Was just the map I never lost I carry it I carry it still Not as a wound But as a will (....but as a will)