For You

I’ve edited the sadness. 
Cut it down and filed the edges. 
Removed anything that might bleed through the page. Relationships ended. Love failed.  Silence of abandonment.

I name the pain only after deciding how much of it you could stand. And added analogies where the truth might be too loud. 

That was for you. 

I included preambles. 
Warnings. And a sense of care that wasn’t mine to feel. 

That was for you. 

And I read what you offered back. 
Encouragement. Quotes citing beauty through pain, and strength as a reward.
I read it all and none of it stayed. 

Because…I don’t remember pride without survival attached. 
I don’t remember being allowed to hurt without proving I earned it. 
If I could, I would write in a different language. One with soft letters. Curved sentences an hope that doesn’t need justification. 

But I can’t. 

So I do this instead. 
I manage it.
I translate it.
I make it readable. 

And I keep going because stopping has never been an option. So this is what survives 

for you.