By Zaima E Jannat

I bled from wounds that were never mine,
Cried over battles I wasn’t meant to fight.
Drove myself to madness, lost the line,
Escaped death’s web through the darkest nights.

I woke up one day with a poker smile,
Cleared the dirty laundry that had piled.
Washed the dishes left for far too long,
Mopped the floor until the tiles gleamed strong.

My voice and I have always mattered,
Even when my pieces lay torn and scattered.
Each shattered piece of me, tells a tale,
Glowing like fireflies, they will never fail.