Seen, Not Second-Best

I grew up fighting for a look, for a word. Watching love land

on somebody else first. Same house, same prayers at night,

but favor had a different side. You called it "order". You called it

"grace". But my tears never had a place. I learned to

shout without a sound. Smiling while I was breaking down.

You don't know the cost of picking sides. You don't hear the damage in

our cries. Favor isn't love when it leaves scars, when it turns

children into battle scars. You crown one and left the rest to bleed.