Unlearning Shame

They told me my truth was too loud,
my identity too complicated,
my pain too messy to love.
So I shrunk beneath shame’s shadow.

But shame is a liar with a loud voice.
It disguises itself as humility.
It grows in silence and secrecy.

I’ve started speaking in mirrors,
writing from the places I used to hide.
I wear pronouns like armor now.
I name myself every morning.

I am not a mistake.
I am a mosaic.
The light hits different here.
I was never broken—only blooming.