04/16/2026
There was a version worn and frayed,
who smiled by day, then slowly swayed.
Who held the weight no one could see,
and fought to keep a will to be.
She knew the nights that wouldn’t end,
when breath itself would scarcely bend.
When dawn arrived without relief,
and waking only sharpened grief.
She knew what it was like to stay
when every part had lost its way.
When hope was thin, when faith was small,
when one more step still felt too tall.
No crowd to cheer. No hand to hold.
No promise life would soon unfold.
Just one more breath pulled through the fire,
one fragile thread, one stubborn wire.
And still she stayed. And still she fought.
Through every war no one else caught.
Through thoughts that circled, dark and deep,
through hollow hours that would not sleep.
She didn’t rise in some grand light,
no sudden end, no clean rewrite.
She rose in pieces, slow and sore,
then chose to rise a little more.
That’s the part they never see,
not who she was, but who she’d be
if she had let that darkness win,
if she had laid her spirit in.
Because the strength that stands now tall
was born where she could barely crawl.
In shattered prayers and silent ache,
she built the soul that wouldn’t break.
Honor her with more than tears,
the one who bore those brutal years.
The one who stayed when staying burned,
the one who hurt and still returned.
She’s the reason breath still came,
the keeper of the living flame.
The proof that even bent in two,
the heart can hold and still break through.
She didn’t vanish in the night,
she fed the dark her final light.
And from the edge where she once quit,
she built the woman made of it.
❤️🔥Phoenix
