He didn't arrive with teeth. He arrived with roses, soft enough to make surrender feel like safety. He learned the map of my heart—not to love it, but to memorize where it bruised. Storms never introduce themselves as hurricanes; they begin as gentle rain. The flowers were never the story. The thorns were simply patient. Sharks don't circle because you're weak; they circle because they're hungry. So let them keep the ocean. Walking away isn't losing love. It's refusing to lose yourself. Sometimes the bravest heart is the one that finally chooses itself.
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Slam poetry by Lucyalia
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