look back

when i look back
i do not see
someone broken 
i see growing

i bruised my knees
from falling to the floor
wore out my voice 
from the endless prayers
dark circles, purple
beneath my eyes
water stains from 
the times i broke into cries 
i cracked every one
of my fingers 
grasping things that
could not stay
the pounding of my head
the familiarity of dread
hope running out of breath
i knelt, sobbing
surrounded by 
scraps of my hair 
ripped out in fear 
i wept until the tears
ran out of salt 

as i sit
at my window
almost three years later 
i see now
how i’ve changed 

my knees now ache
from kneeling
beside children 
showing them how to write 
i fought for the right 
to teach 
and now i see
a sea of small people 
all listening to me 

my voice is strained 
from shouting 
my favourite songs 
imagining the artists
encouraging me to sing along 

where dark circles sit
i kiss my fingertips 
and run them along
the surface of skin
beauty lies 
not atop
but within

my fingers
are dented
from holding the pen
and will continue to cradle it
until the end 
they learned to let go
of what couldn’t be
and embrace the emptiness
as permission to be free

my head pounds
with poetry 
dread loosened its hold on me
hope remembers 
to breathe 

i run healed hands 
through freshly washed hair 
and at last, my heart 
is calm 

i hold myself
in my arms 

i used to roll my eyes 
when they said
things will change, with time 

but now, my page
is dripping with 
excessive love 

isn’t it strange?
once a thought 
i could only dream of

when i look back
i was not weak

just preparing, unknowingly
for how good
things would be. 

16:48pm - 05/01/26