Every Time The World Tries To Bury You, Grow Back With Sharper Thorns

You can’t run away from bad things because bad things are all that you have. They bring out the best in you, or the worst. They are your roots, your origin story. They tear you open, switch you wrong, and still, somehow, they make you. 

When I say they bring the bring the best in you, the kind that bleeds but doesn’t break. People may call it by different names, trauma or weakness, because the last thing they want is to see you rise up from the ashes they poured over you. They want you silent. Small. Spiraling.

All they look for is to run over your head and blow out your mind by making you think you’re insane. When in reality, they don’t bear to see you enjoying the glory that they dreamed once. They say you’re unstable. But isn’t that just a word they use when your chaos doesn’t serve them? 

These creatures, they’ll crawl over your spin with claws dipped in honey, pretending to love you just enough to keep you tame. Ever heard of crabs and snakes? One dragging you down, the other slithering behind your back. One day they tell you you’re “too much”, the next they ask for your fire to warm their cold little worlds. Parasites with polished smiles. They don’t want healing, they want hierarchy. They want to be the ones who survived the storm, even if they must become it for others. 

“Damaged are healed by damaged”, beautiful phrase. Sometimes, healing looks like two broken things holding each other together just long enough to stay afloat. Sometimes it looks like bloodstains on both hands. This isn’t fairytale. This is survival. 

At this point, you might be thinking about that one word to describe me. Let it echo. Let it scream through your shallow judgements and polished diagnosis. 

I am not a neat puzzle to solve, neither are you. 

Let them call you mad. Call you broken. Call you dangerous. But never, ever let them call you weak.