“Still Soft”

I’ve felt the pressure of a thousand storms,

The kind that bends steel, the kind that breaks bones.

I’ve carried the weight of the words never spoken,

Held onto pieces of promises broken.

They said, “Anything that cracks was made too weak,”

But they never saw the battles underneath.

They never counted every time I fell,

Or how I crawled back out of my own hell.

Because breaking isn’t the same as being done,

A shattered heart can still chase the sun.

Every scar is a story, every fracture a sign,

That something inside me refused to die.

I’m not breaking because I’m weak,

I’m breaking because I still feel everything.

The world keeps swinging, trying to turn me stone,

But I keep reaching, I keep holding on.

I’ve bent, I’ve cracked, I’ve come undone,

Been torn apart more times than I can count.

But I’m still here, still breathing, still trying to be—

A little more human than the pain wants me to be.

And if I fall apart, let my pieces be known…

I was never made of glass.

I was made to grow.

The potter doesn’t curse the clay when it falls,

Doesn’t throw it away when it loses its form.

They place gentle hands around the mess,

Shape every failure into something else.

The wheel keeps spinning, the pressure remains,

Every collapse teaches where it can change.

Maybe I’m not ruined, maybe I’m learning

How to hold the fire without burning.

I’ve spent my life thinking softness was a flaw,

Like caring too much was a weakness to hide.

But it takes more strength to stay open

When the whole world tells you to close inside.

I’m not breaking because I’m weak,

I’m breaking because I refuse to stop feeling.

The world keeps swinging, trying to turn me cold,

But there’s still a spark that I won’t let go.

I’ve bent, I’ve cracked, I’ve lost my way,

Been pushed to the edge and asked to stay.

But I’m still here, still reaching for light—

Still choosing love after every fight.

So don’t ask me to become a stone,

Don’t tell me I have to carry this alone.

I don’t need saving, I just need a hand,

Someone who’ll stand beside me while I learn where I stand.

Help me remember what I used to know:

That I’m more than the damage, more than the blows.

That every piece they tried to take from me

Was proof I survived what they couldn’t see.

I’m not broken, I’m becoming,

Every scar is a road I’ve been running.

I’ve walked through fire, I’ve stared down the night,

And somehow I’m still protecting my light.

The world can hit hard, it can shake my ground,

But it never taught my heart to stop reaching out.

So if I break again, let me break into gold…

Because the bravest thing I’ve ever done

Was stay soft in a world this cold.

I’m still here.

Still feeling.

Still healing.

Still whole.