Broken Palace

I feel like the princess and the pea—

burdened with sensitivity,
labeled “too soft,” or “too much,”

a porcelain mannequin—
too delicate to touch

I know it’s just a story—

but I live in a castle
where tenderness feels obscene—

in a kingdom ruled by shadows,

I dim my light
to be seen

trapped in a case
with my greatest fear

Everyone is dancing
Yet no one to hold me near—

There was a world that existed just out of reach—
a world where I couldn’t belong

Desperate to stop the bleeding,
I made myself learn the song

Staying just out of reach,
collapsing into the veil—

to protect the illusion
and preserve the fragile tale

But it was a kingdom
built on thin veneer,

where regulation hummed
like static
in the air

Everyone played a role
they never meant to choose—

carefully guarding
what we were afraid to lose

When nothing feels real—

who am I
pretending to be?

I thought I knew
what I wanted

and yet—

I still don’t feel free

But I look in the mirror—

and all I can see
is an empty shell

And a story
I was never
given space to tell

And as I lifted my arms—
exhausted and frail,

You met me there
at my longest exhale

to stitch the pieces together
I thought I had lost—

the ones I believed
had been absorbed in the cost

“Little one, do not fear”
You whispered—

kneeling close
by my side

“I will hold you near—
in Me,
you can abide”

“I’ll build you castles in the sky,

because, princess—
you were meant to fly”

not perfect,
not all at once,

but steady,
and profoundly true—

You began to reshape
what I thought I knew—

and I’m starting to see
a different reflection—

one shaped by truth,
honesty,
and connection