Tracing Her Shadow

She still comes close.
The version of me I once had to be.
Sometimes she arrives quietly—
just a shadow
pulling up a seat beside me.

I’m evolving,
but I don’t know where I am in it.
And maybe that’s the point—
becoming isn’t a path you measure.
It’s a presence you feel.

Still—
she lingers.

Maybe she needs to know
that she mattered too.
Even if I’ve outgrown her.
Even if I only trace her now in silhouette.
She kept me alive.

But now,
I’m living.
I’m learning what it means to meet life
not with armor,
but with arms open.

Still, one hand
reaches back—
not to stay,
but to say thank you.

With Grace & Ink,

Mai