Therapy Bits

I write to you, not as a plea,

But as the echo of the child I used to be,

Whose laughter faded like dusk into a night

Where fear stitched silence, stealing light.

You spun words like gold for others’ eyes,

But I saw the tarnish—the serpent in disguise—

Your kindness, a mask, well-worn and smooth,

Yet behind it, I found the proof.

You twisted truth into trembling glass,

A mirror splintered in my grasp.

My innocence scattered—petals in the wind,

Torn from the stem before they could begin.

There are rooms I will not enter now,

Dreams I dare not chase, nor allow,

For every shadow stretches from your hand,

A kingdom built on shifting sand.

You are the architect of hollow trust,

Of promises powdered into dust.

You taught me fear by teaching me your name,

Yet I see you clearly beneath the shame.

But proof is not just what’s shown or told;

It’s the ache that settles when secrets unfold.

You cannot hide from what you’ve done,

Your lies dissolve beneath the sun.

So here I stand, bruised but alive,

Finding courage in the proof I survive.

My innocence lost, but hope remains—

I will not bear your shadow’s chains.

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2025/08/08/proof/