Jun 18
To the Silence That Raised Me You taught me how to hear the hum behind the nothing— the way a faucet drips in a house no one lives in. The static between radio stations. The breath before the apology that never came. You tucked me in with unanswered questions, stitched bedtime stories from the lint …
May 21
Flinch I don’t trust gestures. Even kindness comes in fast. Every hug, a held breath. Every “I love you,” a loaded silence with the safety off. The hand raised in love looks like the one that hit me. They never start with fists— they always start with flowers. And I’m still learning how to tell …
Apr 18
Breaking Free I moved across the country to leave you behind, To break free of your bullshit, And I’ve never felt better. In the quiet of my new life, I’m reclaiming everything I lost and had not found, Every breath unburdened by your darkness. But if our paths cross again, If you somehow find your …
