The bruises on your knees
he’d kneel down for,
hands full of apologies,
regret stitched into his voice.
My scrapes learned how to heal
without witnesses.
I’ve tried so hard to earn it.
Your love is just given.
You are the princess in the photographs,
standing where the light falls naturally.
I’m cropped out,
or holding the camera,
or told to stop standing like that.
And I hate myself
for the envy,
because it isn’t your fault
you were loved out loud.
But sometimes I wonder
who I would’ve been
if I hadn’t spent my childhood
trying to prove
I was worth keeping gentle.
I was never asking for more.
I was just asking
not to be the lesson
in a story where you
were always the miracle.
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 5:26 AM UTC
The bruises on your knees
he’d kneel down for,
hands full of apologies,
regret stitched into his voice.
My scrapes learned how to heal
without witnesses.
I’ve tried so hard to earn it.
Your love is just given.
You are the princess in the photographs,
standing where the light falls naturally.
I’m cropped out,
or holding the camera,
or told to stop standing like that.
And I hate myself
for the envy,
because it isn’t your fault
you were loved out loud.
But sometimes I wonder
who I would’ve been
if I hadn’t spent my childhood
trying to prove
I was worth keeping gentle.
I was never asking for more.
I was just asking
not to be the lesson
in a story where you
were always the miracle.
was anyone else the youngest daughter of two children where your father wanted a daughter and a son so, since your sister already fulfilled his need for a "little princess," he expected the second born to be a son?? niche experience?
