She Was Never Alone

She was seven.
A little Black girl in a world too heavy for her small frame,
Too sharp for her soft hands,
Too cruel for a heart that only wanted love.
She didn’t belong...at least, that’s what it felt like.
Floating through her own life, a ghost in her own skin,
Scared. Lost. Disconnected.
The nights swallowed her whole,
Darkness pressed against her like an unwanted touch.
The world wasn’t safe.
The monsters weren’t just under the bed.
They had keys to the front door.
Spoke in whispers when Mama wasn’t home.
Mama was always busy,
Working, surviving, doing what she had to do.
Did she know? Could she see?
Or was it easier not to?
So the little girl became a shield,
Small hands covering smaller shoulders,
Protecting little sisters from what she couldn’t stop.
She became silence.
She became shadows.
She became numb.
The pain was too much, so she would leave.
Not in body, but in mind.
Her spirit would slip away,
Drifting to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach her.
Blackouts, they called them.
But what they didn’t know
Was that God was covering her.
That every time the world broke her,
An angel wrapped her in light,
Held her in a place where pain couldn’t follow.
She dreamed....oh, she dreamed.
Of places that didn’t hurt,
Of skies that weren’t heavy,
Of love that didn’t come with scars.
Her dreams carried her away from the misery,
But made her feel like a lie when she spoke them aloud.
No one believed her.
No one listened.
And always, she was running.
Feet pounding against invisible ground,
Breath tight in her chest,
Running from something,
Running toward something,
Running…running…running.
Until one day—
The last attack.
She thought she was dreaming again.
But this time, she ran, and she didn’t stop.
This time, she broke free.
But silence wrapped around the truth like a chain.
Family tiptoed around the pain,
Like if they didn’t speak it,
It would disappear.
But she still felt it.
She still carried it.
A walking ghost in a world that never felt like home.
And then
One day, she met Her.
A woman with knowing eyes,
With a voice like wind through the trees,
A spirit that carried wisdom.
And she saw.
She told the girl-now-woman what no one else had.
Every moment you thought you were alone, you weren’t.
Every time you left your body, God sent an angel to hold you.
Every time death reached for you, you were covered.
You were never abandoned. You were protected.
The blackouts weren’t weakness,
They were mercy.
They were proof of God’s hands,
Of divine love woven into every moment she thought she wouldn’t survive.
She was never alone.
Not then.
Not now.
Not ever.
And for the first time,
She could stop running.
She could stand still.
She could breathe.
Because she was never a ghost.
She was never lost.
She was never forgotten.
She was chosen.
She was held.
She was loved.
And now, she knew.