The ones I thought would stay

no one tells you
that becoming
is a quiet exile

that the bridge
back to who you were
burns without fire

and somehow

the hands
that once promised
i’ll always be here

become the first
to loosen their grip

not because
you changed

but because
you no longer fit
inside the story
they needed you to tell

the strange thing is
that strangers arrive

with water
for wounds
they never made

while those
whose blood
runs through your veins

stand safely
on the opposite shore

unable
or unwilling
to cross

perhaps
love was never measured
by who knew your name

but by who
could bear
to meet
the person
you became

and maybe

the deepest grief
isn’t losing people

it’s discovering

that the ones
you thought
would carry you home

were only ever
walking beside
the version of you

that you no longer are

Hanna-Leana Kuus