They called me broken for staying,
But staying was slowly unmaking me.
Silence became my second skin until
I learned that pain isn’t proof of love.
Used to measure love by how much it hurt.
Yes, I left with scars
But also with space to breathe.
Not just survived but also
Learning to become whole again.
Learning to put myself together with gentleness.
Not the one who ran but The one who rose.
Not the one who got away but
The one who came home to herself.
She didn’t leave love behind
She left what was never truly love.
And that, too was an act of love.
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