What Remains

I was a body without a compass,

my breath shallow.

Every dawn was a dare I didn't ask for.

The dark knew my name

it crawled into my bones and whispered of endings.

I stopped praying.

I stopped pretending the light would find me when even my shadow forgot to follow.

Hope was a cruel joke,

a myth for the unbroken.

Until one day something soft stirred,

it was not loud.

Not sudden,

It was just a thought:

The thought being “what if I tried again?”

I cracked a window,

let air into rooms I had sealed with fear.

I spoke a word;

I did not choke,

I stayed.

I stayed when I wanted to run.

I stayed when grief offered comfort.

I stayed when the weight came down like a thunderstorm in my lungs.

Because in the staying

something bloomed.

What bloomed did not sing, it didn’t shine;

It simply was.

Hope;

Naked.

Uninvited.

Unyielding.

Hope stood where I had once fallen, and whispered,“You are still here.”