Still Becoming

There is a voice that whispers in the morning

“They’ll find out.
It’s only a matter of time.
You aren’t who you pretend to be.
You aren’t as bright
As the light they see.”

And you believe it
Because it speaks in your voice
And it remembers every time you hesitated.

Every unfinished sentence,
Every frozen mistep,
Every “I’m fine” you didn’t mean.

But even the ocean
Must pull itself back
Before pushing forward.

You are not a fraud
For feeling fragile.
You are not unworthy
Just because the truth feels
Too beautiful to hold.

And somewhere,
Someone is looking at you
The way you never learned
To look at yourself:

With wonder.

So when that voice comes again,
We must tell it:

“I hear you.
And I know you’re afraid,
But we are still going.
We are still becoming.”

And that
Is no mistake.