Dancing With The Devil

i know you don’t recognize me.

how could you?

you’ve waited in the dark so long,

held the silence so tightly,

that hope began to sound like a lie.

but i’m here.

i’m you – just later.

and i’ve come

to say the words

no one ever said to you.

i remember.

the freezing stillness among voices

that never heard a thing.

the feeling

that your body no longer belonged to you –

like someone switched off the light

and whispered, be quiet now.

i know how shame

crawled into your bones,

quietly,

a little more every day.

how you asked yourself,

what did i do?

what’s wrong with me?

you were so small.

so heartbreakingly small.

and still you thought

you had to understand.

you began to hate yourself.

felt dirty.

buried it all deep inside –

because no one was there

to walk with you through the pain.

and me?

i didn’t look at you for a long time.

i’m sorry.

so endlessly sorry.

i know how you cried at night.

in secret.

so quiet, you could barely breathe.

how you wished

you could disappear.

how you learned

to function instead of feel.

to smile with a mouth full of rubble.

and then – that hunger.

for closeness.

for safety.

for someone to simply say, i see you.

but every time

you showed your feelings,

you were told you were “too much.”

“too sensitive.”

“too loud.”

so you swallowed them.

one by one.

until you swallowed yourself too.

my little one…

you never deserved any of it.

you were a good child.

with a heart

bigger than anything,

it should’ve had to carry.

and you broke under things

that were never your fault.

and still – you stayed.

i know trust is hard for you.

but please –

let me sit with you.

just for a while.

i don’t see a broken thing.

not a mistake.

but a brave child

who kept walking with open wounds.

you don’t have to prove anything now.

not your strength,

not your silence,

not your worth.

you’re allowed to feel.

you’re allowed to fall.

i will catch you.

and if you want –

i will hold you.

until you can breathe again.

until you know:

Why do I exist when there is no reason to live?

What's the point behind it if I always fail in life?

Why do I continue if I don't have a place that feels like home?

Why do I never feel good enough?

Why do I smile when I lost my laughter years ago?