Inner Current

A river learns my name before my lips ever do. It travels my spine in quiet lightning, remembering every wound as light. I am not broken I am becoming. Each crack a doorway, each scar a pulse of blue fire. Butterflies keep my secrets, they know how endings soften into wings. They know the courage it takes to leave the body you once survived. Above my head, time slows its orbit, golden and forgiving. Below my skin, the water keeps moving. I stand between sky and self, alive not because I was spared, but because I flowed.