Writers 
Too young to understand the adult whispered in kitchen.
Too young to understand the reasons why the lights stayed off to save finances.
Too young to understand why love sometimes looked distance.
I thought silence was peace & busy meant not caring.
I thought "I'm fine" meant fine.
Too young to understand the weight on my father's shoulders & the tiredness in my mother's eyes.
I asked questions.
Got "not now" & "you won't get it."
I made stories to fill the gaps.
The monsters under the bed & the monsters in the bills.
Too young to understand leaving wasn't abandonment & staying quiet wasn't anger.
Too young to understand forgiveness wasn't forgetting.
The people who worked double shift, prayed without breaking.
Now I understand.
The thunderstorms happened to people who looked calm Inside.
The kitchen whispers & closed doors.
The hands that held me when I couldn't name what was wrong.
And I get it now.
Too young to understand but now I do.
It's always about surviving.
The smile that remembers every storm.
The struggle, the pains with it, it's all.
The moments that became memory.
It's took time to recognize myself.
Healing feels weird & now I understand.
