Dear Life Poem by Miss Tee

Dear Life,

A wisp —

just a whisper at first —

curled itself around my ribs
 and called itself loneliness.

It grew teeth.

What began as a quiet ache
became a hunger, 
a raging, marrow-deep craving
 to be seen
without translation.

It slipped into every open wound, 
nested in the softest parts of me, 
until pain and longing 
were no longer strangers
 but twins.

Time passed.

The future blurred at the edges
 like ink dropped in water.

Reality sharpened instead —
not cruel, 
 just clear.

And I learned 
that growing older
does not mean growing certain.
In fact, 
the years peeled back my confidence 
like old paint, 
 revealing how little I truly knew.

No shame.

Only grace

for this tired, trying soul

that did the best it could

with trembling hands.

I have felt abandoned

in rooms full of people.

Discarded without a sound.
Forgotten in plain sight.

I searched for the missing piece

as if I were a puzzle

someone else had scattered.

All the while

I wore a wide smile —
bright enough

to blind the world

from the shadows behind it.

These past years

have not been lived —

they have been fought.

Minute by minute.

Breath by breath.

Clinging to a whisper of hope

so thin

it could have vanished

with a sigh.

How do I explain

that darkness made a home in me
when all anyone saw

was light?

How do I confess 
that some mornings 
felt heavier than gravity —
that waking 
felt like a question 
I wasn't sure I wanted to answer?

And still —

I prayed.

For a rounded life.

For balance.

For mercy.

I asked the Almighty
 not to erase my darkness, 
 but to dim it —
to soften its edges, 
to let light touch
the places I hide from myself.

Dear Life,
I am still here.

Lonely, yes.

But breathing.

And somewhere beneath the ache
there remains
 a stubborn ember
that refuses 
to go out.