one day, i'm gonna grow wings
tolerance is often mistaken for weakness. people don't understand the quiet kind of strength it takes to stay. to keep standing when your knees are shaking and your heart is a war zone. tolerance isn't cowardice, it's armor. it's carrying a storm in your chest and still choosing not to let lightning strike back
one day, i'm gonna grow wings
i tolerated the cold when all i craved was warmth. i tolerated being misunderstood, misnamed, misloved. i tolerated rooms that shrunk around me, hands that let go too early, and words that hit sharper than knives. but through it all, i held on. not because i enjoyed the suffering, but because i believed somewhere deep in my ribcage that i was meant to become something more
one day, i'm gonna grow wings
with every day i tolerated what i could not change, i grew a feather. with every night i cried and still got up the next morning, i stitched a new to bone. with every ache i turned into art, every heartbreak i folded into metaphor, every scream i replaced with poetry; i built wings. they may be jagged. uneven. scarred. but they are mine.
one day, i'm gonna grow wings and i won't fly away to escape the world. i'll fly above it to show that i made it. that tolerance isn't weakness, it's the birthplace of strength. that surviving quietly doesn't make your pain smaller; it makes your resilience louder. and that sometimes, the ones who bent without breaking are the ones who were always meant to soar.
one day, i'm gonna grow wings
so if you see me one day, high in the sky, don't ask why i flew. ask how i survived with shattered feet. and i'll answer simply, "i tolerated the fall. that's why i earned the flight."
and so,
one day, i grew wings