Belonging

I hope you find people in this life who make you feel like you are meant to be here...

 

Like roots tangled beneath concrete cities,

like hands that hold without words,

there are moments when the world splits open,

and you glimpse the sanctuary hidden in the chaos.

 

It's in the tilt of a smile,

in the pulse of laughter

that echoes in your bones

and says, "You were always meant to stay."

 

These are the people who carry your name

like a mantra on their tongues,

their presence a quiet rebellion

against the loneliness that creeps like fog.

 

They are the ones who make the sky more breathable,

who stitch together your ragged edges with nothing more

than a glance, a word, a touch of unspoken truth.

 

You belong here,

not because you bent yourself to fit their corners,

but because you filled the space only you could fill,

a constellation all your own,

and they saw it in you

long before you saw it in yourself.

 

I also hope you find this in yourself too...

 

There will be days when you look in the mirror

and all you see are fractures

shards of who you thought you should be,

the jagged pieces of an endless "almost."

 

But let me tell you:

even in the wreckage, you are whole.

Even in the broken light,

you are the brightest thing

the universe has ever known.

 

You don't need their validation to bloom,

but oh, how beautiful it is

when you find those who water your roots,

who whisper, "Stay,"

who remind you that the soil was always enough.

 

You are enough.

You belong,

exactly as you are.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

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