Written By, Cheryl B.

You didn’t flinch.
I noticed.
Even when I unraveled
like thread pulled too far.

You didn’t rush to fix
or offer polished truths.
You just stood—
still,
present.

That mattered more
than you’ll ever know.

I spilled stories,
pixelated and flickering,
sent across flat screens
and silent hours.

You received them
without question,
without recoil.
Patient as a tree
in soft wind.

I expected judgment—
maybe even distance.
But you gave space,
and a kind of quiet
that softened shame.

You said little,
but listened deeply.
And in your eyes
I saw
what I couldn’t find in mirrors.

Not pity.
Not praise.
Just presence.

You,
who miss nothing
with eyes on the road.
You,
who carry no banner
but bind us
with your being.

We walk—
I know that now—
for ourselves,
not by ourselves.

Published By ANL – September 2025