The Lesson of Fear

We all once learned the quiet taste of fear —
That we're not loved, will be left, unnoticed.
And that same whisper, hidden in sleep's sphere,
We carry out like children, scared and bruised.

From that old wound a battle grows inside —
Control, resentment, comparison, and spite.
And everyone keeps searching far and wide:
Who'll fill me, heal me, prove that I'm all right.

So tell me — what's still worthy of your love?
My silence? Tears? The doubt I can't outgrow?
I'm tired of fixing who I'm made of,
Just to earn some tiny yes, some faint hello.

Tell me, when will this path of mine run dry —
This endless trial, this hunt for love's reward?
I want so much to rest, to stop the lie,
And be myself — no mask, no battle sword.

But there's a place — where presence meets the light,
Where no one has to prove — they're simply near.
There, the invisible ban dissolves from sight.
Love asks for no form, no gaze, no fear.

Not because I've suddenly grown strong,
But because I've stopped the race, the chase.
Love didn't come as a reward for a song —
It came as a breath, a permission, a space.

So tell me — what's still worthy of your love?
When I am weak, confused, and not so bold?
I'm tired of splitting the self I'm made of
Into who I should be — and who I couldn't hold.

I searched for love in someone else's stare,
In faded promises of yesterdays.
But the tighter I held on to people there,
The farther I ran from my own truth's blaze.

And then — in silence, where no names remain,
Where the fear of being alone finally falls,
I heard the most honest whisper without pain:
Love is not searched for. Love is what I become.

Now I know — I don't have to wait
For someone to let me be my own.
Their thoughts are theirs. I've closed that gate.
I won't reshape myself to earn a throne.