050425

How would you like to keep your heart?
Tell me.
Taken by the world?
Or settled...
in your truth,
your real identity?

'Cause listen—
Many walk around hollow,
No sensitivity in their speech,
Throwing words like daggers
Never stopping to see who bleeds.

The hurt...
Yeah, yeah—
Hurt people hurt people.
But let me tell you something—
In this world?
In this real life?
The hurt…
still get hurt.
Again.
And again.

And they’re tired.
Tired.
Of trusting—
Just to lose it all
All over
Again.

And then act like
Nothing.
Ever.
Happened.

They carry that pain—
But it ain't just pain,
It's trauma
From way back—
Childhood days
Teenage haze
And all those late-night,
"What if I had…?"
conversations
They never say out loud.

Worries for tomorrow?
Yeah.
Stacked like cages
Inside their chest.
Each breath—
A protest,
A plea,
A whisper that says:
"Please… let it stop."

But still…
They breathe.
Not ‘cause it’s easy.
Not ‘cause it doesn’t ache.

They breathe
‘Cause deep down—
Somewhere in the cracks,
Where the light still gets in—
They believe.

Believe that maybe,
One day,
The tears that fall in silence
Will finally be seen.

And someone,
Somehow,
Will wipe them away—
Gently.
Like they matter.