she walked through years with unstable bonds,
too much heat in a fragile chain,
every promise a reagent wrong,
every touch a delayed pain.
grown in rooms with the oxygen low,
where affection was a weapon dressed as care,
taught by acids how souls corrode,
and by silence how to disappear.
they broke her down to base components:
fear, want, don't leave, don't look,
but somehow love stayed insolvent,
remained inert no matter how they shook.
she's all soft tissue and scarred intent,
a nervous system wired for flight,
yet she feeds the world with gentleness
like glucose feeding a dying light.
no map in her pockets, no north in sight,
just vibes that guide her, without applause.
a heart still seeking the right reaction,
to be known as more than just her flaws.
she loved like a buffer against their chaos,
neutralizing rage with her fragile skin,
held together storms with nothing but bare hands
while they rewrote the rules to win.
some days she was heaven, some days a crime,
their moods like unstable states,
and she once felt endurance meant love
until survival taught her escape.
abandoned pieces still learn to bind,
still search for their own shape and name,
and even abused, she's longing for warmth,
like a plant leaning towards a flame.
looking for an island where atoms don't shatter,
she's close - no, found it - though shaking inside,
a living proof that damaged matter
can still choose love over spite.
happy birthday, my sweet emily,
may our next chapter amplify your shine.
no more imbalance, explosions or anomalies,
my hands will hold you and never decline.