There Comes a Time

by MissT

There comes a time when the running ends,
when the hiding caves in,
and what we bury
pushes through the soil like weeds.

The self-hatred.
The insecurities.
The cracks in the mirror.
The belief that “it won’t happen to me,
until it does.”

Therapy taught me this:
the wounds we carry,
the blame we drag,
they were never ours to begin with.

We stumble through life,
right or wrong,
until the old ways
no longer fit like skin.

Still, we rise,
mud on our knees,
gravity clawing at our ankles,
but we rise.

And sometimes surrender
is stronger than struggle.
Sometimes letting go
is lighter
than breaking ourselves
just to fit in.

Age is not cruel,
it is kind.
It hands us a softer mirror,
teaches us to breathe easier,
to hold ourselves more gently,
to carry less weight
from the voices of others.

I know this too:
not every wound closes.
Not everybody heals.
Not everybody wants to.

But me?
I will never stop reaching.
For myself.
For the ones I love.
I will dig through shadows
to place their hands in the light
that was always waiting inside them.