“Never the Name”

Always the pulse behind the art The storm that paints, then falls apart The voice in poems that no one reads A soul that waters others' needs Always the thread that holds the seam But never stitched into the dream A chisel shaping someone’s gold But left untouched, alone, and cold Always the shield, not the embrace The tear that dries on someone’s face You build the bridge, they cross, then flee You're praised for strength, but never seen Always the truth that’s too intense Told to dim down your innocence They drink your fire, then call it flames And leave you holding all the blame You're every heart that never healed But still you fight, still choose to feel You make the light, they call it shade You’re loud in love, yet overplayed Always the healer, not the need The seed that breaks so others feed Always the brave one in the dark Who hides her pain and calls it art You’re not “too much” — you’re just too real In a world afraid to truly feel But I see you — not just the part You are the poem, not just the start You’re not the ghost, you are the flame You’re not forgotten — you are name