“Before Loving Again”

Sometimes I stop, not wanting to stop, And think: "Can I give myself?" I don't even know what I want, nor who will come, But I'm already afraid of what I'll cause. It's funny to fear what hasn't even begun, Carrying guilt for something that hasn't failed. Wanting to love, but holding back, Like someone who's walked and fallen through space. My heart isn't fragile, it's just being reformed, It's already been rained on, it's already taken shape. It's already been a home, a shelter, it's already been a storm, Today it's ground in search of truth. I don't want to give half of what I know I am, Nor trap someone in the world that's ended. I want to stay who sees my chaos and says: "Even so, this is where I want roots." That's what hurts—this "maybe" that lives inside me, This fear of being too much or not being the end. What if I stumble again in the dark? What if I'm a shadow instead of a future? But still, I live. And I remain whole. Even with cracks, I'm still true. And if one day love knocks on the door, slowly... Maybe I'll open it. Maybe I'll let it in. But for now, I breathe and continue to grow, Without rushing to love, but without fear of being.