A Poem: Open Hands, Open Heart

There's a particular kind of tired that comes from holding yourself together for too long, smiling when you don't feel it, calling your fear a boundary, calling your armor a plan. This poem came out of that exact tiredness, and out of the quiet relief of finally setting some of it down. I wrote it as a reminder, to myself as much as to anyone reading it, that softening isn't the same as breaking, and that you were never actually as alone in this as the armor made you feel.

We were never meant
to live in cages
trapped inside
our quiet rages.

We came here pure,
joyful and glowing,
open to love
without even knowing.

But somewhere we learned
to flinch and fold,
to wear our armor,
to act ice cold.

To guard our dreams,
to fear the fall,
to smile like we’re fine
and feel nothing at all.

We drew our lines
with fretful hands,
called them “boundaries,”
called them “plans.”

But what if the walls
we built for safety
are the very things
that keep us empty?

What if the pain
that haunts our minds
is just the echo of
the love we’re trying to find?

So come now and drop your shield,
and let yourself begin to feel.
Maybe not all wounds are meant to heal.

Some need an open sky.
An extended hand.
A whispered try.

Unity is not perfection,
and never rejection.
It’s choosing grace
over disconnection.

It is messy, yes.
It is brave, for sure.
It is whispering,
“You are worthy,
even when you feel insecure.”

So open up to the truth,
to your inner seer.
Let peace grow strong.
Let your path become clearer.

You don’t have to divide
to survive.
You don’t have to shrink
to stay safe.
You don’t have to wait
to feel whole.

Love isn’t earned.
It’s already won.
It’s the light within you,
your inner sun.
It never left you.
It’s always shown
because the truth is this:
you were never alone.

From my heart to your,

V