I wish I could cradle your delicate soul,
so open, so tender, trembling at faintest shadow
Every glance, every word, every careless echo
seems to leave a bruise only you can feel.

If I could, I would wrap you in quiet armor,
soft as a sigh, strong as the roots of an ancient tree,
shielding you from the sting of shame,
from the weight of judgment, from the cruel edges of chance.

Your heart is a fragile flame,
flickering in a storm that does not always understand.
And I wish I could hold it close,
guard it from every gust that seeks to bend it,
so it could burn freely, wildly, fully,
without fear, without restraint, without apology.

May you move through this world unscathed,
may you breathe the truth of who you are
without the burden of its scorn.
May your soul, tender and sensitive,
find its own rhythm, its own sky,
and in that freedom, bloom untethered, unafraid,
beautiful in its raw, radiant vulnerability.

Originally written: 2025 unknown date