Fragments of me

At eleven, life wasn’t as bright,

The dreams I held fell into the night.

Reality hit, a crushing weight,

And I couldn’t stop the change of fate.

Once a child, carefree and bold,

Now I’m lost in stories untold.

The world grew darker, I grew cold,

And with each year, my heart turned old.

My parents, silent in their fight,

Carried burdens hidden from sight.

They didn’t speak of the hurt they knew,

But I could feel it, deep and true.

They thought I didn’t see the strain,

But every tear, every pain,

I felt it too, though I stayed quiet,

Drowning in the silent riot.

Their words, though sharp, cut through my soul,

Made me quieter, made me feel small.

I wanted to speak, to ease their grief,

But I was just a kid, lost in belief.

I felt like I was never enough,

That nothing I did could make it tough,

To see the light they used to know,

Instead of the shadows, dark and low.

I watched them struggle, day by day,

Hoping for a sign to show the way.

But what could I do, just sixteen years old,

When the weight of the world felt so cold?

I wished I could give them something real,

To take away the hurt they feel.

But I’m still learning, still unsure,

Still just a kid with dreams obscure.

The silence I carry, the words unsaid,

Fill the spaces, the thoughts in my head.

I’ve forgotten how to speak, how to feel,

Trapped inside, just waiting to heal.

I lost my voice somewhere along the way,

Fading in the shadows, day by day.

I want to shout, I want to scream,

But I’ve forgotten how to dream.

Still, in the quiet, a flicker remains,

A hope that someday, I’ll break these chains.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find my voice,

To speak, to scream, to make a choice.

But for now, I keep moving—

One quiet step at a time,

With a flicker of hope

That someday, I’ll find my rhyme.

~Cloie