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TamrynPoems
They said waste of space like space isn’t where stars survive. Like air doesn’t fight every second to stay air. A grandmother pointed downward, called truth a sin, called silence love, called me ****** for refusing to swallow what broke me. The house was a war drum. I was small. I stood anyway. I learned how to be a bodyguard before I learned how to be a child. I learned how to cook calm, how to tuck fear in, how to hold my brother steady when the floor kept giving way. They called that weak. They always do. Because strength that doesn’t look like cruelty confuses people raised on feae. I am not a victim— say it again, say it louder— I am what lived when living wasn’t promised. I wake up. I show up. No disguises. No hiding. Every breath says still here. Every step says wrong. I am not fragile— I am practiced.
0
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 12:57 AM UTC
The truth be told
They said waste of space like space isn’t where stars survive. Like air doesn’t fight every second to stay air. A grandmother pointed downward, called truth a sin, called silence love, called me ****** for refusing to swallow what broke me. The house was a war drum. I was small. I stood anyway. I learned how to be a bodyguard before I learned how to be a child. I learned how to cook calm, how to tuck fear in, how to hold my brother steady when the floor kept giving way. They called that weak. They always do. Because strength that doesn’t look like cruelty confuses people raised on feae. I am not a victim— say it again, say it louder— I am what lived when living wasn’t promised. I wake up. I show up. No disguises. No hiding. Every breath says still here. Every step says wrong. I am not fragile— I am practiced.
Written by
Tamryn
34
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 12:57 AM UTC
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