"I Was Never Meant to Survive"
They wrote my name in quiet rooms,
sealed it inside walls I never built,
tied it to a fate I never chose.
meant to disappear into a story that was never mine.
I ripped the script from their hands,
walked through the wreckage,
barefoot, bleeding, unwanted.
They whispered unbreakable as they watched me splinter.
Called me strong when I swallowed silence instead of screaming.
what kind of strength is built on suffering?
I stood in the wreckage of who I was,
palms bloodied from holding on too long,
lungs choking on the smoke of what I couldn’t save,
waiting for mercy that never came.
But silence doesn’t hand out mercy.
And when the world begged for my obedience,
Not because I was fearless,
but because I was done being afraid.
But let me tell you something they will never say:
I did not survive out of strength.
I survived because even breaking wasn’t an option.
Because even when I wanted to break,
Even when I begged to disappear,
life kept dragging me back by the throat.
And sometimes, that's enough.