Poem: Heal the Sadness

There is a sadness
that does not need to be fought,
only held.

A quiet ache
that has lived beneath the heart
for so long
you almost mistook it
for part of who you are.

But you are not the sadness.

You are the one
who survived it.

You are the light
still breathing beneath it,
the tiny sacred flame
that refused to disappear
even on the nights
you could not feel its warmth.

So do not rush your healing.

Sit beside the hurting places.
Speak softly to the memories.
Let the tears come
without asking them
to explain themselves.

Some tears are simply
the soul releasing
what the heart
was never meant to carry forever.

And slowly,
the heaviness will loosen.

Not because you forgot.
Not because it never mattered.
But because your spirit
is learning that it is safe
to open again.

One morning,
you will notice the sunlight
touching your face.

You will hear yourself laugh
without forcing it.

You will breathe deeply
and realize
there is more room inside you
than there used to be.

And perhaps healing
will not feel like becoming
someone new.

Perhaps it will feel like
remembering the person
who was always there—

beneath the grief,
beneath the fear,
beneath every goodbye.

Still worthy.
Still whole.
Still becoming.

So place your hand
over your heart
and whisper:

I am allowed to heal.

I am allowed to feel joy again.

I am allowed to put down
what has become too heavy.

The sadness may have
written a chapter of your story,

but, beautiful soul,

it does not get to write
the ending.

Thank-you for reading.

Brenda Marie