Raw.Real.Recovered.

I didn’t get to you before the world settled in—

before your innocence slipped away,

quietly buried beneath years of pain and survival.

I didn’t make it in time.

Our souls missed each other by inches,

before you hardened, before you learned to hide behind

strength, silence, and steel.

But I still see him—

the boy you once were,

flickering in the shadows of your eyes.

The one who never got to fully come out and play.

I can feel the ache of him—

wanting to run barefoot through wonder,

to feel safe enough to be soft,

to be loud without fear,

to be held without suspicion.

I wish I’d seen the sparkle in your eyes

the first time something truly amazed you.

The nervous thrill of your first touchdown.

The clumsy joy of learning your first chords.

The wild belief that you were allowed to dream.

But I didn’t make it in time.

And God, I wish I had.