My name is Charvonne, and writing has always been the way I translate what I cannot say aloud. I write to make sense of the silence, of love that lingers, of hurt that refuses to fade, and of hope that insists on blooming even in the darkest corners. Poet. Storyteller. Collector of fleeting moments. I believe words can heal, haunt, and hold us, sometimes all at once. I don't write to offer perfect answers; I write to hold fragments of feeling, to turn heartache into language, and to remind both myself and my readers that even in breaking, there is beauty. If you find yourself within my lines, know you are not reading alone, you are part of the story too.