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Selah
Selah
16/F/Nigeria I write what I cannot say aloud, quiet pieces of love, longing, faith, and the spaces in between. Every poem I write is a fragment, soft, aching, searching. I spill ink where my voice trembles, believing that words can be prayers, even when whispered.
When the Darkness Comes Quietly When the shadows press against my chest, and my breath feels borrowed, I remind myself: I have been here before and still, I rose. Anxiety whispers, depression lingers, but neither has ever stolen the quiet flame inside me. I am not the storm, I am the girl who survives it. I am not the silence, I am the breath that breaks it. Even here, even now, when the night feels endless, I am still here, still breathing, still held by God. And that is enough. — Sela 🌙
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Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 1:48 PM UTC
When The Darkness Comes Quietly