I Asked for Peace
I wanted peace
not the kind that hides in silence,
nor the kind that comes dressed in temporary calm,
but the kind that holds you gently,
that listens to the chaos in your chest
and doesn't flinch.
Yet you came, disguised as the very thing I prayed for.
You smiled like serenity itself,
your voice soft enough to make my wounds forget they existed.
But when your disguise fell,
when the illusion shattered like glass beneath trembling fingers.
I was left standing in the wreckage
of what was and what could have been.
I watched every piece of peace I had left
crumble beneath the weight of your presence,
and my heart
oh, my heart
it soared for a moment,
believing you, thinking it was healing.
Only to bruise again
from the very touch it mistook for safety.
Tell me,
was this your message?
That peace was never meant for me?
That it was merely a mirage
dancing in the heat of my longing?
Because now I ache in places I didn't know could ache
in the quiet after midnight,
in the pauses between my breaths,
in the echo of my own forgiveness
that never seems to reach me.
But Still, I hold on.
Because even if peace feels distant,
even if it hides behind heartbreak and disguise,
I must believe it exists.
Because no soul alive is undeserving of peace,
not even mine.