*This piece contains references to past emotional and relational abuse. Intended for readers processing trauma, healing, and rediscovery of safe love.

Her voice arrives quietly,

carefully placed,

like she's afraid

her words might bruise me.

She says she's obnoxious,

but I’ve never seen it.

She’s walked through what I have:

infidelity,

abuse.

Unfortunately.

I worry about her.

She reminds me

of how you and I began,

but she's different.

I don’t believe

she'd hurt me

in the ways you did.

With her,

I breathe freely—

something I never could

with you.

Her embrace smells

of vanilla,

grounding me softly,

reminding me

I am wanted exactly as I am,

not as the ruins

you made of me.

With you,

I tiptoed through life,

bracing for eruptions,

always ready

to flee your anger.

She tiptoes gently too,

still scarred by the past,

still wary of harm.

A quiet,

cautious dance

around old memories.

It’s sobering,

to see our wounds mirrored,

to find comfort

in silent understanding.

She helps me unpack

what you left.

Gently.

One wound at a time.

Read the Next Poem

Sanctified Silence