Written by: Admin_SheEvo
To smile when your bones hum with ache,
to laugh even as your hands tremble
not because the hurt is gone,
but because you’ve made a pact with the light
to outshine it.
To dance when the sky splits open,
not in spite of the storm,
but because of it
to let the rain baptize you
into something unbreakable.
That, right there…
is the alchemy of a survivor:
taking the weight of what tried to crush you
and turning it into wings.
You wear your scars like constellations,
mapping where the battles were won.
Your heart, a drum that still beats
in a rhythm even sorrow couldn’t steal.
They don’t see the nights you pressed your face
into the pillow, muffling sobs,
or the mornings you had to relearn
how to stand without folding.
But here you are
not just alive, but living,
not just breathing, but singing
the anthem of your own revival.
You are the quiet rebellion,
the proof that pain is not the end of the story,
just the ink it’s written in.
By: Mutshidzi
