I Didn’t Know I Was Breaking Until…

I didn’t know I was breaking…

Until I broke.

My heart didn’t just crack—it dismantled.

And truth be told, the reconstruction still looks like a demolition site.

I didn’t know breaking meant being mentally bagged, emotionally bruised, and physically exhausted by the weight of people who kept reaching while I kept giving.

I didn’t know breaking looked like carrying their burdens and trying to carve out a corner for my own.

I didn’t know breaking felt like silence…

Like isolation in a room full of people I once showed up for.

I guess I just wanted the same presence I so freely offered.

But here I am—alone in my thoughts.

Tears falling at the sight of something as simple as a flower…

because even it had to fight through storms to bloom.

But tell me—who pours into the ones who always pour?

I didn’t know I was breaking…

Until my spirit whispered—you can’t go any further like this.

And so, I paused.

Because sometimes survival means sitting in the rubble…

and still believing something beautiful can grow again.

~Kae Jaye~

Prompt from: @stanza_society on IG.