Soft Enough To Bleed

Part 20: To The Wild Bloom Still Unfolding

To The Wild Bloom Still Unfolding..

Hey you,
Yes — you, the one pretending to have it all together,
When your chest is a cathedral of unsaid prayers and half-tamed storms.

I’m writing from the middle of the mess —
From nights I pressed my face into the pillow,
Just to keep the sobs secret,
From days I wore laughter like armor,
And called it strength.

Listen close;
I bled for this softness you carry like a birthright.
I bruised my tongue learning how to say enough.
I broke the same way you will break —
A thousand tiny deaths to feed one unstoppable life.

When they ask you to shrink,
Grow larger.
When they tell you you’re too much,
Overflow.
When they cannot love you whole,
Love yourself until the ache turns to echo.

You are not required to be gentle with the world,
That forgot to be gentle with you.
Be tender if you wish,
But be wildfire if you must.
Take your mother’s strength, your father’s  strategy,
Your old lovers’ ghosts —
Turn them into poems so loud they resurrect you daily.

One day you will stand in the mirror,
And see no girl begging for permission —
Only a woman drenched in her own mercy,
Sacred and unbothered by their expectations.

I want you to promise me this:
That you will love without apology.
Grieve without shame.
Laugh so wide the sky gets jealous.
Rest so deeply your bones forgive you,
For every night you refused sleep,
Just so you could outrun your thoughts.

And when you doubt — because you will —
Read this again:
You are the holy aftermath.
You are the sun’s rebellion at dawn.
You are the wound and the bandage,
The betrayal and the forgiveness,
The blood and the pen —
Writing yourself new, every single day.

I love you forward.
I love you backward.
I love you now,
In this trembling middle ground.

Stay wild, stay soft,
Stay unfolding.

-The Warrior Who Was Once You