Still Me

You don't fail.
You fight.
You occupy space
differently now.
It feels wrong.
It feels off.
Pain—always there.
But still
you persist.
You can't jump.
Walking a few steps
is a victory.
Pain becomes a signal.
Not of weakness
of unfinished things.
Mirrors don't lie.
But the mind
it shifts.
Still me.
Just
different.
And maybe that's the truth.
Not broken.
Not less.
Changed.
There is fear
in being seen
Or not seen
A quiet voice
that wants to shout
It's still me.
Water runs
over my feet.
And in that moment
I see something new.
The marks.
The swelling.
The pain.
Not shame.
Not failure.
Fighting
to be.
Living
while dying.