Introduction:

I wrote this poem in 2019, during a time when writing became more than just an outlet—it became part of the healing work I was doing with my therapist. Much of my writing back then wasn’t random—it was intentional. It was part of an action plan to help me process emotions I had buried or dismissed, and to make sense of conversations that had no closure or accountability.

There was a lot I kept to myself back then—partly out of shame and confusion, but also as a way to protect the people I loved from what felt too heavy or complicated. I carried it quietly, until I found my footing. And once I did, I brought my husband into that space—and he didn’t hesitate for a second. No judgment, just full presence. Of course, he wished I had let him in sooner. My hyper-independence is something we both recognize now… definitely my toxic trait. But it’s also how I know I need help—before I start unraveling everything good around me.

He gets that now. He respects it. And once he was in it with me, he never missed a beat. Even today, life pulls us in different directions, but I know one thing for certain: no place feels like home but him.

Writing it out helped me find the words I couldn’t say out loud. It still does. You’d be amazed what comes out when you let the pen do the talking.

Skelly-

Alone | A Place to Belong

A flicker bright, a spark, so small,
A battle fought, I stand, I fall.
Shadows pull, they twist, they bend,
I reach for light that will not end.
The storm still rages, fierce and wild,
A whisper calls, so soft, so mild.
You ask what’s wrong—I cannot say,
The words escape; they drift away.
Yet hope remains, though winds may rise,
A flame still burns behind my eyes.
If love is here, then I am free,
My home is you, you’re home to me.

SK

Have you ever written your way to clarity?
This poem came from therapy, but it ended in freedom. Let yourself process. Let someone in.
For more honest reflections, poetry, and encouragement, visit fabricthatmademe.com and join me on Instagram @skfabric_303.

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