She could have turned to stone.
No one would have blamed her.
She's seen what breaks a body,
what hollows out a soul.
But somehow
she kept a softness,
a light that never went out.
Her laughter still rings true,
her hands still reach.
It's not that she forgot –
you can see the knowing in her eyes –
but she wears it like weather,
something she's learned to live through.
I don't know how she does it,
how she still believes in kindness
after everything.
But when she smiles,
I feel a small, impossible hope
that gentleness
can survive
anything.
--
For my dear friend K, who has been through it all and still always finds a way to be there for me.
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