I am not just a writer-I am a collector of broken pieces, a keeper of whispered confessions, a shadow who bleeds through words. My stories are born from silence, grief, faith, and the kind of love that ruins beautifully. I write of obsession and tenderness, heartbreak and healing, because I believe ruin can be art if told with honesty.

I do not give you fairytales wrapped in ribbons; I give you storms, ashes, and the fragile wings of a butterfly trembling in the hands of someone who could either protect it or destroy it. My characters pray, ache, bleed, and love with a devotion that terrifies, because love is not real to me unless it survives ruin.

I write for the hidden souls who feel too much but speak too little, for the ones who carry pain like a secret. When you read me, I don't want you to feel like you're holding a book-I want you to feel like you're holding a secret. My words are not meant to be liked; they are meant to be felt, remembered, and lived inside your bones.

I keep myself hidden, not out of fear, but because I want you to know my words more than my face. I am not here to be seen. I am here to write and I will never stop.


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