Stone Memory
There are parts of ourselves we gladly reveal.
And parts we leave behind stone.
Not because they are weak.
Because somewhere along the way,
being fully seen began to feel dangerous.
So we built walls.
One disappointment.
One betrayal.
One impossible season at a time.
Until the wall no longer felt like protection.
It felt like us.
The world learned our composure.
Our confidence.
Our practiced answer to,
"I'm fine."
But behind every wall
is something that never stopped waiting.
A dream.
A tenderness.
A hope we thought was safer hidden.
Stone protects.
But it also blocks the light.
Perhaps the walls that once sheltered us
have quietly become the place we disappeared.
Maybe freedom doesn't begin
when the wall comes down.
Maybe it begins
the moment we remember
we were never the stone.
