Journaling Prompt #1

– Write about a part of you nobody has ever met.

There is a girl named Fox

Who no one truly knows.

She hides behind the walls

Her owner has built up,

Watching as life moves on

From the other side.

Sometimes the weight of the wold

Presses hard enough to crack them

And she slips through,

Lingering in the shadows,

Never fully steeping into the light.

Because the light means being seen.

And being seen means being known.

And being know

Feels too dangerous.

Fox is the broken, unhealed.

Who struggles to understand this world

How people act,

Why do the leave?

Why kindness sometimes cuts

As deep as cruelty?

She notices the good in life.

She holds it close,

Let is remind her

There is still something worth staying for.

But the pain she has carried

Has left her questioning everything

Life, people, herself.

She holds herself together,

One bandaid at a time,

Pressing down on wounds that never fully closed,

Hoping no one notices

The way her hands shake

When she does it.

She is tired

Of being the one who keeps it all inside.

Tired of wearing the smile like armor.

Tired of saying “I’m fine.”

When she is anything but.

She wants to be known —

Truly known —

But the fear of becoming a burden

To the people she loves

Keeps her locked behind those walls,

Silent and aching.

She’s scared —

Because healing is not gentle.

It is painful.

It means pulling off the bandaids.

It means letting someone,

See the wounds beneath.

And Fox is not sure

She is ready for that.

But she is still here.

Still breathing.

Still holding on.

And maybe —

Maybe that is enough for now.

But though she is broken,

She knows God is with her.

That through healing,

One day, she will breathe

The fresh air of freedom —

And not the stale air

From the bricked-up box

She calls home.