They raise their voice—
sharp as thunder breaking morning.
I sigh, roll my eyes,
but later find dinner kept warm,
a blanket folded at the foot of my bed,
the porch light left on.

School drains me—
assignments stack like bricks.
But my backpack holds books,
my teachers call me by name,
someone saves a chair for me.

Sometimes I ache
from being the one who always understands.
But my playlist still knows the lyrics
that hold me together.

And in the quiet,
I see the love that never left.