I don't feel like myself lately,
like I've stepped out of alignment and never quite returned.
I've followed wide, welcoming roads, believing movement meant progress,
only to realize none of them knew how to take me home. I'm unsure who I'm becoming now,
or what I've been missing along the way.
I keep questioning the shape of who I am— whether I've changed too much or simply lost the language to recognize myself.
Perhaps I won't become who I once was.
Perhaps she exists only in memory.
Or perhaps I am still her, altered by time, carrying the same core beneath new weight.
So I pause—
remembering I once dreamed of standing here, never imagining how it would feel.
YOU ARE READING
Every part of me
PoesiaThis book took years to begin. Not because I lacked words, but because I lacked the courage to open my heart. To my readers- this is my soul, laid bare. Every page holds a piece of me: my vulnerability, my joy, the moments I loved deeply, and the gr...
