The Awakening

Little one,

you were never given fair odds.

The deck was stacked with empty bottles, missing footsteps,

and a body that broke before it bloomed.

But hear me,

you are not the weight of what went wrong,

you are the proof that life can grow in impossible soil.

Yes, your mother’s absence left a hunger that still lingers.

Yes, your father’s silence taught you that you should mirror him.

And yes,

your body has carried you to battles that you never asked to fight.

But still, you kept breathing.

Most importantly, you kept dreaming.

There is still a pulse inside of you that refuses to dim.

Yes, I know that you could have been magic,

had the world been kind.

But you are something rarer, a miracle of your own making.

And you shine not because the light was given to you,

but because you learned how to build it from the dark.