To the Few

They saw softness and called it weakness.
I didn't argue.
I let them name me with the ease of distance.

But to the few-
the ones who stayed long enough to see the
tremble before the stand,
the silence before the storm-
it was something else.

They saw the choice to feel
when numbness was easier.
The courage to listen
when shouting was safer.
The strength to stay
when leaving would've been applauded.

I was different.
Not louder.
Not harder.
Just unwilling to trade my soul for armor.

And to the few,
that was enough.
Enough to believe.
Enough to follow.
Enough to fight beside.