I am she

The smile is my armor, my laugh is the distraction,

so she won’t see the girl inside me frightened—

small hands searching for silence.

I wear bravery like makeup now, automatic,

each word a shield, each step a defiance

of the ghosts that whispered “you’re not enough.”

She watches, wide-eyed, and I hold steady—

not for perfection, but protection.

I become the guardian I once needed.

She doesn’t see the cracks beneath—

she sees courage.

And maybe that’s enough.

the mask I wear is becoming skin.

Maybe bravery is love in motion.

And I will not let her carry my shadows.