Still Breathing

Foreword

This piece is a conversation I've had in silence for years.
This is about Fear. The version that wears your voice, edits your personality, and calls it protection.
Sometimes the bravest thing isn't being loud.
It's showing up.

Part I: Fear

Let's not do this.
You know how this ends.

The lump's already in your throat,
and we both know
you don't talk when that happens.

It's safer when you don't try.
When you nod,
smile,
blend in.
When you keep it surface
so they don't see what stirs underneath.

You've never liked being seen.
Not really. Not for real.

Remember that time you spoke
and replayed it for three days?
Thought you sounded off?
Too intense?
Too weird?

I wrapped you in silence
so no one else would bruise you.
I built you armor
out of exit strategies,
half-smiles,
and backup plans.

You call me fear
but I was just trying
to keep you from shattering.

I've been here
longer than your voice has.
Don't forget that.

Part II: Me

I almost didn't come tonight.
Almost let my chest
be a locked room again.
Almost gave fear
another W
in a losing streak
I kept to myself.

Truth is
I ain't fearless.
I'm just done letting silence
act like it owns me.

You ever sit in a room
and feel like your heartbeat
is a snitch?

Still,
I showed.
Didn't fold.
Didn't fade.
Didn't let the voice
in my head
talk slick to my name.

Still breathing.
Still walking in
like I belong here,
even when I don't believe it yet.

You think I'm here to impress you?
Nah.
I'm just here
to stop disappearing.

You kept me safe. I kept me small. We're not the same.