Published July 31, 2026
i carry people
like they are fragile things,
holding their smiles
like they might break.
their words sink deep,
deeper than my own voice
ever reaches.
i swallow mine—
again and again—
until silence feels safer
than honesty.
i could be harsh,
just once.
but even the thought
cuts deeper
than any words i’d say.
so i choose softness,
even when it aches—
praying the world
learns
not to bruise
what is already gentle.
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