Zebra Seeking Spoons

I have cursed you,

called you broken,

blamed you for doors that stayed shut

and dreams that dissolved in my hands.

But today,

I place my palms over my ribs

and feel the stubborn beat

that has never stopped for me.

I see the quiet labor you do—

mending, patching,

carrying me through storms

I never thanked you for surviving.

I forgive you,

not because you’ve healed,

but because I finally see

you were never my enemy.

We are both wounded animals

learning how to move without fear.

We are both still here.

So we will go on,

together—

with softer words,

with slower steps,

with the kind of love

that grows in the cracks.