Broken girl with a mind like a maze,
Autistic soul in a neurotypical haze.
I feel too much, too loud, too deep,
And I’ve lost myself in thoughts I keep.

A lover girl with love to give,
But maybe not the kind they let live.
Stuck in a place where silence screams,
Where nothing's real, not even dreams.

Maybe I was never meant to be loved right,
Just built to pour into others, light after light.
But this weight in my chest feels too much to bear,
And nobody sees me — like I’m not even there.

Who am I now, with a heart so worn?
A girl reborn, but forever torn.
Because when I try to look in the mirror and see,
My vision is foggy
I don’t even see me.

So I write and I breathe and I bleed through this pen,
Hoping to find who I was back then.
But maybe… just maybe… through all this ache,
I’ll find that even broken hearts still wake.

So please,
leave me alone.
This book
my book
is over for you.
You had your chapters.
You played your part.
You saw the mess,
you tasted the light,
but none of you stayed
to see the rebuild.

You had your chance
to love me right,
to pour into me
like I did for you.
But you took and you took
and I still stood.
I still gave.

Now I’m done
repeating cycles
just so others can stay comfortable
while I suffer in silence.

This isn't bitterness.
It’s peace.
It’s boundaries.
It’s me choosing me
for once.

And I don’t wish you pain.
I don’t wish you harm.
I just hope that, one day,
when you’re sitting in your stillness,
you’ll remember the woman
who loved you deeply
even when she was drowning.

And I pray
honestly
that I gave you enough hope
to one day look up
and ask Him,
“Did she end up okay?”

And He’ll say:
"She did. Without you."

Now I’m stuck
on the bathroom floor
knees bruised, cheeks soaked,
whispering, “God, why oh why me again?”
But the truth settles in,
soft and sharp like scripture:
Why not me?

He chose me,
to be a light in the shadows,
even when I flicker,
even when my flame feels faint.
Because even when I’m breaking,
I’m still loving.
Even when I’m bleeding,
I’m still giving.

My heart
no matter how worn,
how torn
won’t stop beating for others.
And God sees that.
He knows the weight I carry
is proof of the warrior I am.

So here I go again
off the floor,
out of the sorrow,
not because I’m healed,
but because I’m called.

Because even a woman like me,
drenched in tears and tired prayers,
can rise with grace,
and walk again
like she was never on the ground.

I forgive like rain,
soft and steady, washing wounds clean
even when they were carved into me.
I pour grace like water into cups
that never once filled mine.

I am the open door,
the light in others’ storms,
the hands that hold,
the voice that soothes
and yet no one stays
to check if I’m still breathing
after the healing is done.

Heaven-sent, they say,
but even angels fall silent
when no one listens to their cries.

I gave pieces of myself
to build bridges, mend hearts,
carry burdens too heavy
for broken backs to hold.
But who sees me?
Who carries me?

I am not weak
no, I’m made of grief and grit,
a woman stitched from suffering
and stubborn hope.
But I am tired.
Tired of being the strong one
in rooms full of silence
when I need saving too.

No one could walk
the warpath I’ve walked
and still offer love with open palms.
No one could break this much
and still want to make others whole.

And that’s the tragedy.
That’s the ache.
Not that I can’t forgive them,
but that I forgot how to choose me.

When too good to be true
Meets the woman with her glass half-empty,
She shuffles from room to room
Quiet footsteps across forgotten floors,
Piecing back the hearts of the wounded,
Wounds only her spirit could truly read.

Darkness was her birth canal,
But somehow, light slipped through the cracks
Not in bursts, but in soft, stubborn glimmers.
She was beauty.
She was strength.
But beneath her ribcage lived the dust
Fragments of battles fought in silence,
Memories she swept under her own smile.

She stitched together the pain of others
Like patchwork faith,
Each tear, each scream she swallowed,
Just to feel a sense of form
A body built from borrowed hope.

Another person’s joy
Was a vapor she inhaled like salvation.
But slowly,
She evaporated into “more”
More for them,
Less of her.

And as she disappeared into the invisible
The muse, the healer,
The one who was always “okay”
No one noticed
How loud it is
When a woman vanishes
Without making a sound.

I came up in the dark
no love, just war,
Little girl in a world that don’t care no more.
Now I’m a mother, and sleep don’t come,
Got six souls to guard
five queens and a king .

Every breath I take, I’m on edge, on watch,
'Cause this world’ll eat you if you don’t stand on top of your own.
I don’t get breaks, I don’t get grace
But I give them heaven in this hellbound place.

Five baby girls, one little man,
I became everything I never had.
A lioness, with a mind that won’t rest,
'Cause I’ll die before I settle for less.

I walk with pain braided into my spine,
But I keep them close, and I walk that line.
Ain’t no fear in me
just fight in my game ,
I’m the reason they’ll never know that shame.

So when they ask how I’m still standing tall,
Tell ‘em: I was built to carry them all.
Six heartbeats, and I’m their shield, their voice
They are my purpose. They are my choice.
I ain’t chasing pity  , I’m chasing peace,
But even that don’t come easy in these streets.
I clean up messes I didn’t even make,
But I teach my kids how to bend, not break.

I hold the cries, I wipe the tears,
I fight their battles, I swallow fears.
I been the broke one, the bruised one, the used,
But never the weak one
I never excuse.

See, I came from silence, from slammed doors,
But my babies gon’ grow with love that pours.
I talk to God with a voice that shakes,
But He knows my soul, and all it takes.

I’m not perfect
I’m power in pain,
I’m the thunder that follows the rain.
I’m the hug that heals, the truth they seek,
The strength they’ll remember when they feel weak.

So when the world tries to dim their spark,
They’ll remember their mother
fire in the dark.
Not a queen in gold, but a warrior worn,
With stretch marks like medals from every storm.

I’m raising legends, not just names
With love that can’t be touched by flames.
Six hearts beat under my skin,
And I’d go through hell just to see them win.
I don’t need applause  I need them safe,
I’d rather bleed than let the world take their faith.
Every bruise I carry, every tear I hide,
Is a promise that I’ll never leave their side.

When my back’s to the wall and the bills come fast,
I still make magic, I still make it last.
Stretch a dollar, stretch a prayer, stretch my mind
But they never feel the pressure I fight behind.

I give them light in a world so grim,
Teach my boy to lead, teach my girls to win.
Teach respect, teach worth, teach how to rise,
And to never let this world dim their eyes.

I’m not raising followers  I’m growing flame,
Each child a torch in my last name.
And if they fall, I’ll carry the weight,
Break my back before I give 'em to fate.

I’m the cook, the healer, the soldier at night,
The one who don’t fold when the world wants a fight.
I’m mother, I’m father, I’m truth, I’m grace
I’m love with scars and a fearless face.

You see a woman , I see a war,
I’ve lost myself just to give them more.
But I’d do it again  and again with pride,
'Cause they’re the reason I’m still alive.

I used to chase the mirror’s grace,
Looking for love in a stranger’s face.
Tried to fit in, trimmed my soul to size
Buried my truth just to feel “alright.”

I wore their words like second skin,
Let shame decide the shape I'm in.
But no one told me healing starts
When you sit with your aching, fractured parts.

So I whispered soft to the girl inside,
The one I used to run from, hide.
I told her, “You’re not too loud, too much
You’re real, you’re raw, you’re brave as such.”

I stopped apologizing for the way I feel.
Started peeling back the masks I sealed.
Let my flaws breathe, gave my past a name,
Not broken
just beautifully untamed.

Acceptance ain't a finish line
It's the art of choosing me each time.
When I'm quiet, when I rage,
When I doubt, when I’m center stage.

Now I don’t ask to shrink or change.
I love this soul, a little strange.
She’s not perfect, but she’s finally free
And that’s enough for me to be me.