Between Bruises & Blooms

There was a time

I mistook chaos for love.

Mistook waiting for loyalty.

Mistook breaking myself into smaller and smaller pieces

for kindness.

Now,

when a road tightens my chest,

when a voice makes my heart forget its rhythm,

when silence feels heavier than goodbye—

I turn around.

Not because I am afraid.

Because I have finally learned

that peace is not the absence of storms.

It is refusing to build my home inside one.

So let the old paths grow over with thorns.

Let the ghosts call my name from somewhere behind me.

I have children waiting for my laughter.

Flowers still learning my footsteps.

And a life ahead of me

that asks for open hands,

not clenched fists.

Today,

I choose the quiet road.

Not because it is easy—

but because I finally believe

I deserve to arrive safely.