June 5, 2026

They say that pain leaves fingerprints,
that trauma marks the soul,
that broken roots and shattered homes
extract a heavy toll.

By all accounts, I should have fallen,
lost somewhere along the way,
a ghost beneath a bridge at night,
sleeping through the day.

The odds were stacked against me
long before I understood.
I learned that life could wound a child
before it taught me good.

There were shadows in my childhood,
losses, and unseen pain.
Lessons no child should ever learn
fell softly like the rain.

I was taught that love was fragile,
that people leave, that trust can break.
I learned to sleep beside my fear
and smile through the ache.

The darkness knew my name by heart.
It called to me for years.
It fed itself on loneliness,
on sorrow, rage, and tears.

And many would have understood
if I had lost the fight.
If I had numbed the endless pain
and disappeared from sight.

But somewhere deep beneath the sorrow,
under every bruise and scar,
a stubborn spark refused to die,
a tiny, faithful star.

So I kept walking through the fire
when stopping seemed more fair.
I kept believing there was light
though none was waiting there.

I built a life from fractured pieces.
I learned to stand alone.
I gathered every shattered part
and claimed it as my own.

The wounds are real.
The scars remain.
The past still visits me.
But it no longer holds the pen
that writes my history.

Today I stand in gratitude,
not for all I’ve struggled through,
but for the strength that rose within
when it was all I had to use.

Resilience is a miracle,
quiet, fierce, and rare.
It’s choosing to take the path to live,
when despair is everywhere.

And when I look behind me now,
through every darkened mile,
I’m grateful that the girl who broke
still found a way to smile.