Inner Voice

My inner voice told me to stray from the path before going home.

To take the long way,

the one where words spill slowly,

where silence hides between the lines,

and truth is only whispered under moonlight.

It’s a double-tongued force,

both warning and seduction.

I had no one to talk to,

no warmth to wrap around me,

only the wind, the storm,

and the ache beneath my ribs.

I am romantic… shamefully so.

Like a magician with a clumsy trick.

Like falling for someone

even when you know you’ll bleed.

I cried in silence

as the memories kissed me...

soft, then sharp.

I got lost in his orbit,

swallowed by the gravity of his restraint.

And when I finally got home,

I couldn’t keep the disguise on.

The mask cracked.

I broke in front of him.

And without a word, he held me.

That kind of embrace that needs no answers,

but speaks in stillness:

You’re safe now.

This is your shelter.

Here, no harm will find you.

And still,

his arms silenced the chaos,

yet woke the grief,

not with judgment,

but by the echo of all I left unspoken.

My inner voice is my poison,

and my cure.

So tonight, under stars that witnessed it all,

I choose to find myself again.

I reclaim the helm,

not to escape the storm,

but to learn how to move through it with grace.

I will keep my heart intact,

collect the parts I failed to track.

My inner voice is here to stay,

I have no choice but to learn its dialect.

Oh, inner voice…

Look at the sea and the storm we summoned.

Feel the weight of the waves

crashing with memories.

Listen,

the wind is trying to guide us.

We are not enemies,

only the same breath, carried by different currents.

This ship won’t sink,

not if we steer together.

No map will bind me, I’m both ship and sea,

a sailor bold enough to collide,

charting the depths of what it means to be free.