It’s YOU

It’s you who suffer,

You who bend until your spine shakes.

It’s you who compromise,

Softening edges that were never meant to break.

It’s you who love,

Pouring warmth into places that stay cold.

It’s you who sacrifice,

Trading pieces of yourself no one ever told you to hold.

It’s you who actually climbs the hurdles,

Breath tight, heart loud, body trembles.

It’s not them —

They walk away untouched, unbruised, unmoved.

They are fine,

Light as air while you carry storms.

They brush it off,

As if your ache was never born.

They aren’t suffering

From the pain they chose to leave in your hands —

But you feel every shard

As you try to stand.