I feel it—
that quiet, creeping fear
in the corners of comfort.
Fear of losing the warmth of home,
the steady presence of my parents,
the easy laughter of being with my people
in the way things used to be.

I used to dream of eighteen—
freedom like fire,
nights humming with possibility,
suitcases and skylines,
living loudly
without permission.

But now that I’m here,
freedom feels fragile,
and the dreams are quieter
than the fear that found me.

I just turned eighteen—
and somehow,
the whole world shifted with me.

You once said you like watching stars
now I spend sleepless nights gazing at them-
trying to find what you saw
as if the sky could bring me closer to you

And just like that
pieces of me started slipping into your orbit
I laugh the way you do
pause at songs you would love
find beauty in things once I ignored

Now all I think is about you
Your absence echoes louder than my own thoughts

I wonder -
how did a girl so cold
begin to thaw under your light?
And in this warmth,
have i melted too much of myself?
Am I still me-
or just reflections of who you'd want me to be
It scares me sometimes
how easy it is to blur my outline

But in this softer self
the one who feels, who yields, who stays -
I love me more
And if I've scattered like stardust
just to glow in your skies -
may be that too
is kind of becoming.