My heart bled until there was nothing left.
Pain was my cradle.
Silence, my only companion.
The ones I trusted
turned their backs,
and I stood there,
small against the weight of their rejection.
I waited for love.
I waited for peace.
I waited for someone to see me,
to stay.
But they never came.
Now I know,
Love is an illusion,
peace a dream that dies on waking.
Every promise,
every connection,
was just smoke in the wind.
And when the illusions burned away,
so did the last pieces of me
that needed them.
I do not ask for hands to hold.
I do not ask for words to heal.
I do not ask at all.
I choose distance.
I choose silence.
I choose the untouched sky,
the endless road,
the vastness of my own being.
Freedom is no longer something I beg for.
It is something I am.
Out of the ashes,
I rise.
untouched,
unafraid,
entire.