strength
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They might test my blood. They’ll never test the nights I stayed awake rocking babies. They’ll never measure the panic attacks I survived sober. They’ll never weigh the meals I forced myself to eat, or the mornings I got out of bed when depression begged me not to. Sometimes being a good mother looks nothing…
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They say a mother is born with her child,But mine was forged in storms. In hospital lights,In whispered prayers,In fear that stole my breath. She was bornWhen I chose courageEven while shaking. She was bornWhen exhaustion became routine,And love became instinct. She was bornHolding babies with one arm,And holding herself together with the other. I…
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I used to think healing meant forgetting. That one day the memories wouldn’t hurt. The scars wouldn’t ache. The past wouldn’t whisper my name. But maybe healing isn’t becoming someone new. Maybe it’s learning to love the person who survived. The one who stayed. The one who fought. The one who kept choosing tomorrow even…
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They call it a custody battle. But battles have finish lines. This feels more likeHolding my breathFor weeks that become months,Waiting for strangersTo decide pieces of our lives. I wake each morningStill their mother.No ruling can change that.No courtroom can eraseThe years stitched into my heart. Some days hope is loud.Some days fear sits beside…
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I have been broken open more times than I can count. By loss. By love. By goodbyes I never got to prepare for. I have carried storms inside a body that still learned how to hold sunshine. There were days I wondered if I was disappearing. But somehow, between the cracks, something kept reaching upwards.…
Between Bruises and Blooms 