Trauma is not your enemy.
It's a ghost of you.
And by "heal," I don't mean
she's broken beyond repair,
or that she's crazy.
She just wants to be understood.
By anyone.
Even by something
non-living.
It doesn't want to harm.
It wants to help.
When the scariest day came,
it was that version of you—
that wounded self—
who stayed.
Not because it was brave,
but because it did what it could.
Maybe it failed to protect you.
Or maybe… it saved you.
It is you, after all—
a broken version,
tangled in pain,
stuck in the past.
It's messy.
It's trembling.
It doesn't trust anyone.
Not anymore.
But it's you…
still protecting yourself.
So help her.
Understand her.
Listen to what she went through.
Or simply live with her.
Learn her.
Let her curl beside you,
like a child.
Because sometimes—
the only way forward
is to make peace
with the part of you
that never made it out.