12/09/2025
Border towns raise you with quiet lessons.
You learn to hear danger in the way a door closes,
and loyalty in the way someone nods without looking at you.
Here, respect isn’t spoken — it’s measured.
In footsteps.
In breath.
In how long someone holds your gaze before they let it go.
We grow up fluent in things nobody teaches:
reading rooms before we enter them,
reading people before they speak,
reading intentions before they become mistakes.
The border doesn’t harden you — it sharpens you.
And if you were raised here…
you feel every word of this.
