Cartographers of Sanity

*A Note to the Ones Who Kept the Edges from Breaking*

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Thanks to anyone who has shielded me from hurting myself.
I thrash about in madness handed down to me,
and do not resent the straps.

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Some inherit treasure.
Some inherit silence.
Some inherit storms wrapped in blood and bone.

This is not a cry for pity. It is a note—folded and left in the dark—
that says: *Thank you.*
To the quiet watchers. To the tired arms. To the strangers and the loved ones who kept vigil.

The madness was never mine alone.
Nor was the mercy.

So if you are someone who held the straps—not to imprison, but to prevent a fall—
know this: I saw you. Even if I cursed. Even if I tried to bite. Even if I fell anyway.

**I saw you.**

And now I build things so that others may not need the same restraints.
Or if they do, that they will know it is not shameful to be held.

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*A whisper. Not of defeat. But of gratitude... breathed through a cracked window into the night.*"