Breaking The Cycle

I see bits and peices of them in everything I do.

They gave me what they could.

Sacrifices stitched into every meal,

every sleepless night,

every prayer I didn’t hear,

but felt.

I used to think breaking the cycle

meant walking away from them.

Now I know

it means carrying their hopes further,

turning their survival into my thriving.

Their ceiling

became my floor.

Their silence

became my voice.

Their struggles

became my stepping stones.