Fog.

Sometimes, I write. Other times, I let my soul cry out. The difference is clear as fog. A.

Nothing Has Changed.

I’ve swapped stars for butterflies, Erratic patterns for fairy light trails. Can you imagine my walls no longer absorb light? They emit it. No longer glow but, illuminate. As for me, I no longer write. Instead, I let my thoughts aggregate. Saving the punishment of a deep realisation, For the version of me that will …

Hey Big Head.

I’m back again, Creating literary pieces of art While everything within and around me falls apart. I’m back to being inspired by pain. A.

Growth.

You are not just growing For the sake of growing. You are fulfilling a prophecy, Stepping into your destiny. In this realm, it all makes sense; The backlash the hurt, The tears, the distrust, The series of events, They all led you up to this point. They created this version of you. This heart, this …