ink made of grace

Pause.

Let this moment hold you

not as a burden,

but as a testament.

You lived.

Through what should never have touched you.

Through hands that harmed,

words that wounded,

silences that screamed.

You lived.

And that,

is a kind of strength the world does not know how to name.

The pain you carry

was never yours to earn.

It was placed upon you by those

who should have sheltered your light,

not shattered it.

Your innocence deserved protection.

Your heart deserved gentleness.

Your voice deserved to be heard,

not hushed.

If no one ever said it,

Let it echo now:

You deserved love.

You deserved safety.

You still do.

The anxiety, the walls,

the giving till you are hollow,

the sadness with no shape,

These are not flaws.

They are the armor

your younger self forged

in a world that broke its promises.

And still,

here you are.

Alive.

Breathing.

Trying.

That alone makes you a hero.

Healing is not clean.

It stumbles.

It weeps.

It hides, then howls,

then rests again.

Let it.

You do not have to perform your recovery.

There is no single way to reclaim your story.

There is only this:

You.

Now.

Choosing softness where there was once survival.

You are not what was done to you.

You are the breath that continued.

The heart that beats anyway.

The soul that still seeks light.

You are worthy of love that does not sting,

of safety without question,

of rest that does not tremble.

The past is real.

But so is this moment,

And the future?

It is yours to write

in ink made of grace,

in chapters bound by joy.

You are not broken.

You are becoming.

With every breath,

you remind the world:

I am still here.

I am still healing.

I am enough.

---

P.S. If this poem reminded you to treat yourself with more care, consider something as small, and powerful, as Aloe Lips.  

It is gentle, natural, and made for people who carry too much and smile anyway.  

👉 Order Aloe Lips on WhatsApp.