Through the Fog

Tag: broken

  • The Weight of Loving The Broken

    You’ll never truly know

    how broken someone is

    until you try to love them—

    until your hands meet the cracks

    they’ve spent years hiding,

    until your kindness echoes

    in rooms where only silence has lived.

    They’ll flinch from gentle words

    as if softness were a threat.

    They’ll test your patience

    like a child lost in a storm,

    unsure if safety can exist without pain.

    And if you stay long enough,

    you’ll learn that love

    isn’t always light.

    Sometimes it’s holding someone

    while their darkness spills out,

    and realizing

    you can’t fix them—

    only love them through the breaking.

  • When the Fire Comes

    Photo Credit: Adam Wilson

    Rage is roaring like a fire out of control.

    It starts small — a flicker, a tremor in my chest — then suddenly it’s everywhere. Burning through reason, devouring silence, leaving only ash behind.

    I don’t even know what I’m angry at half the time. Maybe it’s everything. Maybe it’s myself. The way I keep trying to hold it all together when I know damn well I’m unraveling.

    There’s a part of me that wants to scream until my voice gives out. To throw something, to break something, just to prove I still exist — that there’s something alive inside me after all the numbness.

    But I don’t. I swallow it. I smile when I’m supposed to. I nod when people talk. I hide the fire and let it burn me from the inside out.

    Sometimes I think rage is just grief wearing armor — a way to feel powerful when all I really feel is broken.