The people I once knew
shifted– softly, then all at once,
their warmth dimming into distance.
I walked among them
a stranger in my own story,
an unfamiliar face
veiled in quiet black.
They thought it was loss–
that I had hidden something precious,
that I had buried beauty
like a secret too heavy to carry.
But this–
this is my offering.
A devotion stitched in shadow,
a choice carved from certainty,
a surrender not to the world
but to something higher than its gaze.
I keep my beauty
like a sacred verse–
whispered, not displayed,
revealed only to those
who are meant to understand.
Still, I felt it–
their indifference,
their questions dressed as pity.
“Her husband must have forced her.”
Their voices lingered
behind my back
like echoes that never learned my name.
But if they listened–
truly listened–
they would know
this was never a cage.
This was my will,
my shield,
my quiet rebellion.
And in the stillness of it,
I am closer–
closer than I have ever been–
to God.
♡ lil-usagi
Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 4:14 PM UTC
The people I once knew
shifted– softly, then all at once,
their warmth dimming into distance.
I walked among them
a stranger in my own story,
an unfamiliar face
veiled in quiet black.
They thought it was loss–
that I had hidden something precious,
that I had buried beauty
like a secret too heavy to carry.
But this–
this is my offering.
A devotion stitched in shadow,
a choice carved from certainty,
a surrender not to the world
but to something higher than its gaze.
I keep my beauty
like a sacred verse–
whispered, not displayed,
revealed only to those
who are meant to understand.
Still, I felt it–
their indifference,
their questions dressed as pity.
“Her husband must have forced her.”
Their voices lingered
behind my back
like echoes that never learned my name.
But if they listened–
truly listened–
they would know
this was never a cage.
This was my will,
my shield,
my quiet rebellion.
And in the stillness of it,
I am closer–
closer than I have ever been–
to God.
♡ lil-usagi
