In Another Universe

In Another Universe

In another universe,

I unspool my sorrow without restraint

no need to camouflage ache

behind curated smiles or brittle laughter.

Grief is not an embarrassment there, but a language understood.

I weep freely,

and silence that follows

is not laced with judgement

but shaped with gentleness.

I articulate how i wish to be held—

not merely with hands,

but with reverence.

There, I am not too much,

not too fragile,

not a storm to endure

but a soul to behold.

My voice is unmuted.

I do not whisper to fit the room.

I resound—

and the echo is met with listening,

not resistance.

In that realm,

I am a poet. 

Each stanza bleeds truth

without fear of consequence.

My metaphors are not dismissed,

my vulnerability not punished.

I live in the open, 

unfolded,

unapologetically whole.

Perhaps I do not belong to this world,

Perhaps I was meant for softer heavens,

gentler moons,

and kindler mirrors.

Maybe in another life.