If I were to leave tomorrow,
would you ever remember me?
would you visit my grave -
Is that how you'd remember me?
Or would you turn me
into a poem of yours,
and keep me alive through you?

Every day, I open my reality:
I wake up.
I feel.
I choose.
I decide—
knowing so many others
are crying behind the scenes,
and their trembling is raw.

Pain isn’t consolation—
it reinforces the structure of fragility
when the towers are crumbling.

At the core, we return,
squeezing black-and-white struggles
into our veins, into our memories.

To the only home
we never left
our own body.
The first and the last.

Vivid feels the breeze
Wind chimes sway upon a dream
In tiers petals fall

All these years, I wore a mask that was suited to other people's validity. I tried to ask for their acceptance to feel significant until it made me suffocated. Losing myself and emptiness felt in the depths of my heart. There's a hole that could never be filled by others. Behind this mask was my true self until I realized that I didn't need to hide anymore. I didn't need to cover myself from the world because love had found me.

The love I have for myself filled the hole inside my heart, exposing the true tenderness and goodness of the soul. My precious soul despite scars and imperfections, I know that I was beautiful. This love I have for myself surpasses all of the doubt and insecurities, uncovering the mask I have worn for so long, and embracing my uniqueness. This love nurtures my existence to be the best version. This love will keep me living.

That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy