I write
because some stories ask to be held
in more than memory.
I write so someone else doesn’t feel as alone
in the quiet parts.
I write to trace what hurt,
to remember what helped,
and to offer what I’ve learned
to whoever might need it.
I write
because the world didn’t stop
when mine did –
and maybe yours didn’t either.
So here’s my story
not to fix you
not to explain me
just to say;
you’re not the only one carrying something heavy
and trying to make it beautiful.
