Seen

I’ve sat alone in rooms full of people,

shrinking myself to fit the silence

they expected from me.

My words disappear the moment they leave my mouth—

fading just like my worth seems to in their eyes.

Some rooms shine warm on everyone else,

leaving me in the corners

with shadows for company.

I speak, but only the walls answer back—

and even they sound tired

of holding my echoes.

They water every garden but mine,

then wonders

why nothing grows in me.

But Jesus walks straight into that empty garden,

kneels in the soil everyone else forgot,

and calls my name like it’s the only one He knows.

He doesn’t overlook me—

He seeks me.

He doesn’t walk past me—

He runs toward me.

Where I was unseen,

He sees me fully.

Where I was abandoned,

He gathers me in.

Where I learned to live between the lines,

He writes my name

bold

on His hands.

And in a world where I’m never enough for some,

He whispers,

“You’ve always been worth the chase.”