When I fall…there’s no hotline...no rescue...no echo of my name just silence,and the sound of my own breath..arguing with survival I learned sometimes the only person who’ll show up for your breakdown is the one inside you that never got a break So when I fall,I call on me...because I’ve seen prayers bounce off ceilings and land right back in my palms...So I built altars out of pain...and learned to spark firewith two tired hands If faith don’t light it then desire will...If desire fades...then desperation will fan the ashes until hope smells like smoke again I’ve thrown rocks into my chest and called it anger but it was really ignition....A spark screaming, “live again.” Life made my heart cold but not hollow...Im not heartless...I’m hardened, but there’s still rhythm in the ruins. They say “keep your head up.”But they don’t tell you how heavy it gets when every thought drags it down...Still... I carry it...My shoulders learned the language of gravity. I’ve been bruised...but never buried...Broken,but never beneath. Because every scar on me is proof that pain can heal into poetry. I don’t chase peace I become it...Slowly...Loudly...Completely. So when I fall again don’t call it weakness...Call it rehearsal...because I’ve been perfecting the art of standing tall on broken days. Every crack in me let the light in and maybe that’s what wings are fractures that healed in the shape of flight. I don’t run from my demons ...we hold meetings...They tell me my weakness...I tell them I’m healing So when I rise and I will rise ...don’t call it comeback...Call it continuation. Because I was never gone I was just rebuilding the foundation. And if I fall again don’t pray for me...pray with me Because even from the mud...I’m aiming for heaven