Love Came. Poem by Sharon Namwalizi

Love came
quietly,
softly…

Not with the loud bells
I was expecting.

Love came
whispering.

I nearly missed it.

I was so used to the confusion
that came
with what I thought was
love.

The love that I needed.
The love we both needed.

The kind of insanity
that keeps you awake at night,
questioning:

Do they value me?
Maybe I spoke too much.
Maybe I was too quiet.
Maybe I should try harder.
They need to see my efforts.

I remember how I kept bleeding,
changing skin,
trying to accommodate
a love that was never coming.

Shrinking my laughter,
softening my edges,
learning to apologize
for taking up space.

Will they accept me?
Am I something to keep,
or something to hide—
a secret
just between the two of us?
Sweet lies.
'You are special.'

Love came,
and I was so used
to the breaking storm
that I questioned it.
I questioned it.

'Why isn't my heart fighting for air? '
'Why are my knees steady,
my hands strong? '

And my voice...
Oh my voice.
This speech
is mine.

Not rehearsed.
Not borrowed.
Not filtered
through the fear
of being too much
or not enough.

Love came,
and I had to relearn it.
It wasn't fireworks.
It wasn't begging.
It wasn't proving
that I was worthy
of staying.

It was peace.

The kind that doesn't ask
who I should become
before it chooses
to stay.

Because love,
real love,
never asked me
to disappear.

~sharonnamzi
8/7/26-21: 17