the way i climbed

I was handed the map folded wrong,

Told to run before I knew how to fall,

Shoes too tight, dreams stitched uneven.

No one warned me the stairs would wobble—

Every step echoing what I’m not,

What I was never allowed to be.

They liked me better with closed lips,

When I smiled without knowing why.

I wore mascara like war paint,

Just enough to look awake.

Not enough to scare them off.

They called me brave, but never asked why.

There’s a burn mark on my left sleeve,

From when I reached out and the world flinched.

It’s funny how silence burns louder

Than anything I ever shouted.

I learned to cry without sound—

That’s when they finally listened.

They saw me angry, so they feared.

They saw me soft, so they pitied.

But they never saw me whole,

Til I stopped bending into shapes.

Now I wear my scars like bracelets,

Heavy, but mine.

The staircase didn't end, it folded—

Upward into mirrors and smoke.

I met my old self midway,

She asked if I made it.

I told her, not yet,

But I'm not falling anymore.

If I must offer something, let it be this:

The truth doesn't always shine,

Sometimes it bruises,

Sometimes it trembles in daylight.

But I hold it out, palms open—

And that’s what I call peace.

~ Muhammad Abdullah