HoaC

My heart is a creature I keep caged inside my chest,

It claws when I’m spiraling, makes a riot of my breath.

There’s a strange kind of comfort in the chaos I possess—

Like my failures bloom as flowers in the places I’ve repressed.

And it howls for my body, tries to tear me from myself,

But I won’t let it take me, won’t hand over all my health.

Some nights I swear I’d stop my heartbeat just to quiet down the hell—

But I’m still here, still fighting what I never learned to tell.

But I won’t be possessed.

God, You called this life a gift, but it feels more like a test.

If I whispered my goodbyes, would You hold me to Your chest

Or turn away in protest…

Pull me from the waters where I’m sinking slow,

Tell me there’s a place for all the things I never show.

If I’m breaking in the open, let the breaking help me grow—

I’ve been calling out for mercy,

Just to know I’m not alone.

*I won’t be possessed…

I won’t be possessed…*

Nobody’s perfect, nobody’s worthless,

But my mind keeps turning circles that convince me I deserve this.

I woke up on this earth and grew older, not better,

Lost the innocence I carried like a fragile piece of weather.

But I’m learning to breathe through the storms I create,

To forgive the small failures I used to inflate.

Some days I still crumble, but some days I rise—

And I’m starting to see there is grace in the trying,

A soft kind of truth in the light that keeps finding

Its way through the cracks in my life.

There is grace in the trying.

If I drift into the deep where all my shadows tend to dwell,

Would You meet me in the silence, pull me back from my own hell?

I’ve been trying to find the meaning in the stories that I tell—

In the ache that shaped my living,

In the wounds I know too well.

*I won’t be possessed…

I’ve sinned and I live with it,

Ever since the hurt I took as a child, too small to understand it.

Just a mark on my face for the shock and bewilderment

Of how the world keeps standing still while cruelty moves so confident.

But I’m not who I was when the damage was done;

I’ve stitched myself together where the seams came undone.

And though the past still echoes in the corners of my chest,I’m learning that healing is slow but it’s honest—That I’m more than the shadows that once tried to haunt us,More than the pain I survived.

I’m more than the pain I survived.

Hold me through the breaking,

through the storms I couldn’t quell,

Show me there is light beyond the places where I fell.

I’ve been learning how to live inside a body that rebelled—

Trying hard to trust the healing,

Trying hard to trust myself.

My heart is still a creature, but it’s softer in my chest,It no longer claws for power, it no longer steals my breath.I’m more than what I’ve lost,More than what I’ve survived—And I’m finally learningWhat it means to be alive