I used to know the shape of me, A laugh, a light, a stubborn flame — But now I speak in fragments, And silence sometimes knows my name. I’ve lived on edges, sharp and thin, Threats like shadows at my door, I’ve shouted loud, then whispered hate To the mirror I don’t trust anymore. Mum calls me the villain, Says I break what I can't control — But she can't see the tidal wave That’s swallowed up my soul. My siblings cry, my chest goes tight, My voice breaks into air, And I’m just hollow, tired, and lost, Still searching — is she in there? I walk through days on aching feet, With weight I cannot name, Some days I want to disappear, Others, I just feel shame. They say I’m angry, say I snap, Say I’m too much, too loud, too wild — But no one sees the scared inside That’s still just someone’s child. I tried to bloom, I tried to breathe, But grief stuck to my skin — I wear a mask of “fine, okay” While fighting wars within. And yet… I’m still here. Even cracked, I haven’t died. There’s strength in waking up again, Even when I want to hide. So maybe I’m not who I was — But I am still becoming. Not broken. Just undone a bit. A heart that’s still worth loving.