ECHOES BENEATH MY SKIN

Have you ever battled your childhood scars while carrying the weight of adulthood? They never fade easily; they linger, whispering through laughter, echoing in silence.

If one never faces them early, they return, as grief disguised in love, as fear wrapped in tenderness, as walls built inside the heart.

And those who have conquered them, are they victors or victorious? Are they winners in the quiet wars within? Perhaps they are simply survivors, learning to breathe again.

And what of those still fighting? Are we weak? No. Just human, still stitching our souls where they once tore.

I wish I had known how to heal sooner, but the universe has its rhythm, one I can’t always dance to. The Almighty works in mysteries, and I still tremble at His timing.

Some days, I wear my calm like armor; other nights, I shatter softly. I spoke the pain out loud, yet still, I feel the tremor beneath my skin.

The girl I was, naïve, silent, tearful, she still visits sometimes. She stares back from the mirror, but I can hardly see myself inside.

Chaos sometimes feels like home, and that frightens me, for I fear losing control again.

By day I wear a steady face, by night I drown in quiet rain. No storm outside, yet skies erase, what falls within reveals my pain.