Griefborne

Some of us weren’t raised—  

we were carried  

by things that should’ve broken us.  

And somehow,  

we learned to walk anyway.  

Grief wasn’t an event for me.  

It was an inheritance.  

A language I understood  

before I ever learned my own name.  

People talk about healing  

like it’s a destination,  

a clean horizon you eventually reach  

if you just keep moving forward.  

But I’ve learned this instead:  

some wounds don’t close.  

They become architecture.  

They shape the way you stand,  

the way you love,  

the way you brace for impact  

even in rooms where nothing is falling.  

I used to think that made me broken.  

Now I think it makes me honest.  

Because the truth is—  

grief doesn’t leave.  

It just learns to walk beside you  

without dragging you under.  

And if you’re lucky,  

you stop apologizing  

for the weight you carry  

and start recognizing  

the strength it took  

to lift it at all.

-𝕃ℝ 🖤