Rebuilding

It about Rebuilding

Rebuilding

I was so young
when the world turned heavy,
when hands and voices
taught my body to be afraid.

Memories slip back in
like shadows under the door —
my mind replaying scenes
I never asked to remember,
and my body still flinching
at echoes no one else can hear.

Some nights I feel trapped
inside a room made of thoughts —
walls made from silence,
ceilings made from shame —
and I wonder why my heart has to fight this hard to stay.

I walked through days
that felt like rain that never ends,
smiling on the outside,
breaking on the inside,
telling no one,
because I thought no one would understand.

I lost people I loved,
not because I wanted to —
but because the sadness was louder
than my words could ever be.

And still…
somewhere under all that hurt,
something small kept glowing —
a stubborn whisper:
“Keep going. Keep breathing. This is not the end.”


Now I’m learning
that healing isn’t forgetting —
it’s learning to live
without letting the past steer my life.

I’m learning to talk
when the memories return,
to be kinder to my heart,
to take tiny steps
instead of blaming myself for falling.

2026 is not my escape —
it’s my rebuilding:
brick by brick, breath by breath,
new boundaries, new peace,
new faith that I deserve gentle things.

I am not the harm that found me.
I am not the voice that says I’m broken.
I am the courage of staying,
the strength of standing back up,
the promise that one day
this pain will feel lighter.
And I will grow wings again —
not to run away,
but to rise.