The Broken Soul

Somewhere between breaking and becoming.

I've mastered the art of smiling

with a thousand storms beneath my skin,

of telling everyone I'm doing fine

while fighting wars I'll never win.

I've been the shoulder, been the shelter,

been the one who held it all,

but nobody sees the weight I'm carrying

or how many times I've almost fallen.

I've lost pieces of myself

trying to keep the pieces of others whole.

I've given everything I had

until there was nothing left to show.

And sometimes I wonder

if the person in the mirror is still me,

or just a collection of all the things

I thought that I was supposed to be.

But there's a fire underneath these ashes,

a heartbeat beneath this pain.

A soul that's bent, but still breathing,

a heart that's weathered endless rain.

I may never be who I once was,

and maybe that's not mine to choose.

But if there's one thing life hasn't taken,

it's the strength I have left to lose.

So don't mistake my silence for surrender,

or my scars for being weak.

Some of the strongest souls you'll ever meet

are the ones who are too tired to speak.

I'm not healed. I'm not whole.

I'm just still here.

And tonight,

maybe that's enough.