The Poem That Made Her Cry

I don't want to make you cry. I want to say the thing you already know but haven't heard out loud— the thing that sits in the back of your chest like a fist that forgot to open. You are so much stronger than you think— not the loud kind, not the movie kind, but the kind that gets up at 6 AM and makes everyone's day possible before making her own. The kind that holds it together in public and falls apart in the shower where no one can hear the cost of being the one everyone leans on. You are seen. You are seen. Even when you think you're invisible— especially then. The tears that come when someone finally says the right thing— those aren't sadness. Those are relief. The body's way of saying: thank you for noticing. So here: I notice you. I notice the tired. I notice the trying. I notice the love you give and the love you forget to keep for yourself. Keep some. You've earned it.