I have built so much.

A life that breathes.

A voice that speaks truth.

A body that dances,

even after all the damage.

I have grown gardens

from grief.

Made art

from ashes.

Laughed loud

in rooms that once held

only echo.

I have stitched myself back

from every unraveling.

Became my own compass

when no one came to guide me.

I have survived

things I still don’t have language for—