Soft Enough To Bleed

Part 22: Just Be

Just Be...

Let these eyes not settle for shadows —
Force them to kneel before the full glare of the sun,
To see the filth and the holiness braided into every street corner,
To weep for what they dare to witness and still refuse to turn away.

Let these ears not drown in gossip and half-love —
But sharpen themselves on grief songs,
On the tremor in a mother’s cracked “I’m fine,”
On the confession hidden in laughter.
Let them eavesdrop on truth, on betrayal,
And bless the burden of knowing too much.

Let this tongue not busy itself with polite silence —
But spit out the venom when needed,
Taste the salt of my own courage,
Bend language to my bruises,
Make poetry out of the shame they tried to bury under my tongue.

Let these hands not flinch from the jagged edges —
Let them stitch the torn seams of my spirit,
Break chains, untangle my hair,
Wipe my tears like a ceremony.
Let them learn both the art of clenching a fist,
And the divinity of an open palm.

Let these feet not only pace my anxiety into carpets —
But dance barefoot on unforgiving soil,
Run toward the wilderness that calls my name at midnight,
Stand firm on the neck of every fear that dares breathe beneath me.

Let these bones not rattle for show —
But, carry the weight of my lineage with grace,
Crack when they must, mend when they’re ready,
Remind my blood that survival is a family trait.

Let this heart not tick out a dull apology for beating —
But thump reckless, reckless, reckless,
Fall for the wrong people and write them all down,
Spill itself across pages and doorsteps,
Bleed soft enough to heal, hard enough to remember.

Let this mouth dare to say; “I want.”
Let this throat not choke on my own desire.
Let this skin feel pleasure and pain without shame.
Let this spirit rise even when my body folds inward.

Let me be contradiction —
Holy and hungry, kind and cutting,
Gentle with the world yet ruthless about my own becoming.

Let me not wilt for their comfort.
Let me not hush my thunder because they flinch at storms.
Let me breathe fire when breath alone will not suffice.
Let me breathe at all, unbothered.

And when there is nothing left to fight or flee —
Let me sit in the soft wreckage of myself,
Let me wrap my arms around my own ruin,
And whisper; “Just be.”
Just be.
Just…be.