STRONG IN YOUR BROKEN PLACES.

The world breaks everyone.

Quietly at first, like fog through stone,

then louder, until the fault lines show,

in places even we don’t know.

It snaps the string that’s tuned too tight,

But listen.

casts shadows of angst beneath its light,

scuffs your name with wind and sand

until you barely understand

what held you once, what made you whole

and where they’ve buried half your soul.

There is strength not born in steel,

but in the way that bruised hearts heal.

In scars that shine beneath the skin

like lightning marks on the soul within.

The cracks you try so hard to hide

are doors through which your spirit rides.

So stitch your courage, thread by thread,

into the silence where you bled.

Not every tear is a spring of regret

some are just water, paying a debt.

You are not less because you’ve wept.

Not weak for dreams you haven’t kept.

You’re tempered now, but like shattered glass,

each fragment, is, a whole itself and will last.

The world will break you of course, it will.

And still you’ll rise. You’re rising still.

With broken bones that learned to dance,

with every wound another chance

to carry what the world erases

and grow stronger

in your broken places.