All I Know

Sometimes the world divides itself between what’s right

and what we can live with.

And in between, there is you—

a life still half-bound to another,

and me, already walking out of the fire.

You speak of guilt,

and I see how your heart bends under it,

how even compassion becomes a chain

when it’s tied to the past.

But I don’t see sin in you.

I see someone brave enough to face truth

without a map or applause,

someone who refuses to live a lie

just to make the world comfortable.

There’s a kind of grace in that,

a stillness that doesn’t beg for permission.

You’re learning to breathe again

in air that doesn’t belong to anyone.

And I stand here quietly,

not as your reason,

but as your witness—

knowing that love,

when it’s real,

asks only to be lived truthfully.