They are throwing my name like a match,
causing fires in rooms I have never stood in.
Drawing maps of who I am
without asking where I’ve been.
Voices talking about me.
Never to me, never close.
But if they asked how my chest feels now,
they would know I have
finally learned to control my breath.
I am standing in the healthiest place I have been.
Hands steady, heart bruised but clean.
And as my friend, don’t aim to win an argument
based on a version of me you created.
Stand beside me, and see for yourself.