I see you there, holding all that weight,
A heart cracked open by fear and fate.
You tremble in shadows where love should have grown,
Haunted by voices that chilled you to the bone.

Your Mother’s hands, meant to heal and hold,
Instead left bruises, silent and cold.
And yet, the fear of her being gone
Cuts deeper than words could ever spawn.

Grandmother’s warmth was a flickering light,
But even that slipped into endless night.
Now grief sits heavy, a ghost by your side,
While old wounds and memories silently collide.

Anxiety whispers, “You’re never enough.”
Depression replies, “Why fight when it’s tough?”
PTSD drags you back to those days,
When safety was fleeting, lost in a haze.

And still, the walls feel thinner each day,
Threatening to crumble, to drift away.
What if the roof gives in to the storm?
What if you’re left out in the cold, far from warm?

But hear me now, in this fragile line:
Your pain does not erase your shine,
You’ve survived storms darker then the sky,
And though you’re tired, you still try.

The house may shake, but you are stone.
Built from scars and standing alone.
And even if the walls fall down,
You are not lost, you will not drown.

Breathe, even when it hurts to start.
Hold space for the cracks in your heart.
You are more than the shadows that chase,
More than the fears you quietly face.
So, when the night feels far too long,
Remember: you are still here. You are still strong.

With love,
Your Inner-self

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