The Grounding Wire

What if the healing isn't found in finally being "fixed"?

This poem is inspired by my narrative series, ‘The Silent Witness‘, and my research series, ‘Where the Healing Begins’.

original ink by Brandi Lynn

We have spent so long
polishing our armor in separate rooms,
convinced that our "mess"
was a secret we had to carry alone.
We thought the static in our marrow
was a private failure,
a glitch in the wiring
that the rest of the world couldn’t see.

But what if the healing
isn't found in finally being "fixed"?
What if the medicine
is simply the moment I look at you
and drop the performance—
and you don’t look away?

When I admit the room is too loud,
and you say, “I can hear the buzzing, too.”
When your joints find a shape
that isn't a cage,
and I offer you a place to lean.
In that space, the "Sentinel" goes quiet.
The "Ritualist" stops counting the exits.
Because the weight of being "Normal"
is too heavy for one soul to bear,
but the truth of being "Weird"
is as light as breath
when it’s shared.

We are not statues meant to stand in rows.
We are a symphony of anomalies,
a high-voltage current
looking for a place to land.
And when we find each other—
unmasked,
un-ordered,
and beautifully undone—
we finally become the ground.

You are the witness to my gold.
I am the witness to your spark.
And neither of us
has to be "appropriate"
to be loved in the dark.
  
                                                                                               With grit and grace, Brandi Lynn ♡

---