The Trembling Ground Of An Honest Heart

It’s easy pointing out their mess,

Their fears disguised as tenderness,

I see the flaws in what they say,

The acts, the games, the roles they play,

I read the signs, I know the score,

I’ve seen these patterns all before.

But then the silence pulls me in,

And shows me what I’d stored within,

The part of me I’ve kept disguised,

Behind the truths I’ve memorized,

The girl who ran, the one who clings,

The one who dreams of better things.

The voice that says: “Don’t ask for much”,

Then aches for closeness, warmth and touch,

The smile I wear when I’m afraid,

The walls I built, the roles I played,

The times I chose to shut the door,

Before they left, just like before.

It hurts to see, it burns to know,

The ways I’ve learned to keep control,

To name the fear behind my face,

The need I swore I had erased,

To meet myself without defense,

No blame, no game, just consequence.

And still I stand. I breathe. I stay,

I won’t explain it all away,

This seeing hurts, it strips me bare,

But in the pain, there’s something rare,

A quiet space, a softer start,

On the trembling ground of an honest heart.

Cathrine Hottran 2025