Healing & Becoming
Poetry about surviving, rebuilding, learning yourself again, and becoming someone new without pretending the bruises never happened.
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Regret may line the path behind her, but it does not get to choose the direction of the next step.
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The harm did not come from some abstract darkness; it had a familiar face, a familiar voice, and choices that belonged to you.
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Becoming means naming who she is now without softening it, and deciding which old versions no longer get to come along.
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Some feelings live between grief, longing, relief, and fear—too complicated for one word and too real to ignore.
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An unfinished sentence becomes a declaration of everything survival, grief, motherhood, and becoming have made her.
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Home stops being a place when one person becomes the quiet safety every road had been trying to lead toward.
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A refusal to inherit someone else’s rage, shrink into their story, or teach her children that love should ever sound like fear.
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A repeating cycle of hurt, apology, hope, and return finally breaks when she stops waiting for the next apology to save it.
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A woman sits beneath a flood of cruelty and realizes the person someone is trying to break has already survived far worse storms.
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Sunlight pours across an old church and turns weathered walls into a quiet reminder that cracked souls can still hold something holy.
Between Bruises & Blooms 