Score |
14
The idea of you (us)
<p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>You were a child</p><p>in a hurry.</p><p><br/></p><p>Small hands,</p><p>big plans,</p><p>trying to step into years</p><p>that had not opened their doors yet.</p><p><br/></p><p>You mistook growing fast</p><p>for growing strong.</p><p>Some days were light</p><p>laughter, games, soft hours</p><p>but you left them early,</p><p>convinced staying young</p><p>meant staying behind.</p><p><br/></p><p>I am here now,</p><p>standing in the middle of everything.</p><p><br/></p><p>Calling myself refined</p><p>while my hands shake quietly.</p><p>Pretending I’m made of steel</p><p>when most days I’m just learning</p><p>how not to bend too far.</p><p><br/></p><p>I fight doubt like it knows my name.</p><p>I measure myself</p><p>through other people’s eyes,</p><p>carry their opinions</p><p>like unpaid debts.</p><p>I’m unlearning that.</p><p>Unlearning the lie</p><p>that attention equals worth,</p><p>that every man’s glance</p><p>is a mirror I must look into.</p><p><br/></p><p>Everything else</p><p>I hold it carefully now.</p><p>Not loud.</p><p>Not perfect.</p><p>Just honest enough</p><p>to keep me standing.</p><p><br/></p><p>They are watching.</p><p>Every version of you.</p><p>The child who rushed,</p><p>the girl who wanted approval,</p><p>the one who almost folded.</p><p>They don’t speak.</p><p>They don’t accuse.</p><p>They wait.</p><p><br/></p><p>We move forward anyway.</p><p>Not healed.</p><p>Not finished.</p><p>But aware.</p><p>Learning how to live without flinching,</p><p>how to choose calm</p><p>without explaining ourselves.</p><p><br/></p><p>And somewhere ahead</p><p>she exists.</p><p><br/></p><p>The one who is fine.</p><p>Soft-spoken strength.</p><p>Steady in her faith,</p><p>rich in ways money and spirit</p><p>both understand.</p><p>With peace that doesn’t ask permission.</p><p>She knows when to stay,</p><p>when to leave,</p><p>what deserves her energy.</p><p><br/></p><p>She doesn’t rush.</p><p>She doesn’t perform.</p><p>She protects her quiet</p><p>like something sacred.</p><p><br/></p><p>She is not a dream.</p><p>She is a direction.</p><p><br/></p><p>She isn’t far.</p><p>She just needs me</p><p>to keep moving.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p>
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