In My Bloodstream

In My Bloodstream

Something quiet moves through me while I sleep,

A slow remembering written into my veins.

Not panic, not fear, just a steady return,

Like the body knows what the mind forgot.

Every hurt I swallowed learned my rhythm,

It travelled with me, patient and unseen.

I carried love like oxygen once given freely,

And loss like a weight that never asked permission.

Inside me, repair begins without applause,

Cells listening to instructions older than words.

I am not chasing healing, it finds me instead,

Working softly where no one is watching.

I have bled emotion, not always red or clean,

Trust thinning where promises should have held.

Still, my body never gave up on my name,

It kept circulating hope until I noticed.

What flows now is steadier than before,

Less reckless, less willing to spill for nothing.

I am learning restraint is not the same as cold,

It is wisdom settling into the pulse.

Each breath sends a message through my chest,

You survived, you are allowed to rest.

Strength no longer needs to shout or rush,

It hums low, constant, and sure.

I move forward carried by my own repair,

No borrowed courage, no borrowed pain.

What runs through me now is wholly mine,

A quiet power, alive, and staying.