Survival: Typed This with My Chest

You don’t survive for the

applause

You survive for the

mornings that

don’t feel like mourning.

You survive for the peace

that has your name on it.

And you build until your

story echoes in rooms

that once ignored your voice

You survive so your story

doesn't die

in somebody else’s mouth.

You build in the dark.

You speak when it’s not safe

to.

You scream when they

expect your silence.

And you rise—

not because they finally saw

you, but because you finally

stopped waiting for

permission.

They ignored your voice.

Make your echo louder than

their memory.

You survived.

You spoke.

You stayed.