I no longer measure distance
by the ground I have covered,
but by the silence
I am finally willing to stand inside.
There are names I never said aloud,
moments I held
like breath beneath cold water,
afraid that if I surfaced
the world would see
how deeply I wanted.
And yet…
here I am.
Still breathing.
Still remembering.
Still carried by the quiet
of what almost existed.
Somewhere between healing and longing
there is a calm I recognize.
It feels a little like you.
And a little like
the version of me
I am just beginning
to meet.