More Than Enough

I see you when you think I don’t—
When shame creeps in between each bite.
When food becomes a kind of shield,
A way to feel just something right.

I hear the silence after meals,
The self-blame soft beneath your breath.
You smile through it, but I can feel
The ache that lingers underneath.

It’s not about the food alone—
It’s comfort, pain, escape, regret.
It’s every wound you’ve never named,
And every need you’ve never met.

And I won’t shame the way you cope,
Or say you’re weak, or make you hide.
I know how loud the darkness speaks
When you’re alone with what’s inside.

I’m not here to count or fix—
I’m here to see and stay and care.
To hold you when the numbness hits,
To love you through the wear and tear.

You are not broken by your hunger,
Not unworthy when you fall.
You are human, needing healing—
And you don’t have to have it all.

Let’s talk when you are ready, love.
Or sit in quiet if that’s best.
Let’s cry, or laugh, or walk, or rest—
Together, not a single test.

You don’t have to earn this love.
It isn’t measured, weighed, or scored.
You are more than all your battles.
You are someone I adore.

So when it hurts, and when it swells—
The craving, guilt, the heavy air—
Just take my hand, and breathe again.
You’re not alone. I’m always there.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.