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Lately, I’ve slipped into a rhythm that’s not so kind—
Unhealthy habits shaping my days,
From what I eat to how I move.
My skin speaks first, with breakouts on my face,
And in the quiet of morning,
My eyes puff up with stories they shouldn’t tell.
It’s as if my lungs whisper a warning,
A gentle plea to listen more closely.

I know my body’s language—I’ve walked this path before.
Yet sometimes, the heart longs for the comfort of old ways,
Even when they no longer serve us.

Still, life remains beautiful,
A silent teacher in every turn.
If only we knew how to read its signs,
To pause, reflect, and truly understand
What the moment is trying to say.
Body as a communicator of internal imbalance.

— The End —