I was the one who trembled,
a name pressed into the dirt,
breath caught in my throat
like a bird caged by shame.
I was the one who pressed you down,
my hands not fists,
but words honed to needles,
for I feared my own hollowness
would be revealed.
I felt your weight upon me,
every silence a verdict,
every glance a wound
that told me I was less.
I felt your fear within me,
and so I carved it into you,
believing control would make me whole,
yet finding only deeper fractures.
I wanted to vanish.
I wanted to grow roots
beyond your reach,
to stand unbroken in the sun.
I wanted to vanish.
I wanted my cruelty
to hide the trembling child within me,
the one begging not to be seen.
But the story does not end there.
The soil remembers both seeds,
one watered by hurt,
one reaching toward light.
From your shadow, I found myself.
From my shadow, I lost myself.
And somewhere between us,
pain turned into mercy,
and mercy into freedom.
~TrueMori
I felt the trembling, the shame, and the cruelty born not from strength but from fear. The way you wove both sides, the one who inflicted pain and the one who bore it—was powerful and haunting. What struck me most was the turn near the end, where pain softened into mercy, and mercy became freedom. It left me with the sense that even in brokenness, there’s a chance for light to grow.
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