Dear me,
I know you're tired.
Not just sleepy.
The kind of tired that lives in your bones.
The kind that makes you second guess the way you breath sometimes.
I see how hard you try and make it all look easy.
It's not.

But still, you get up.
You show up.
Even when your heart feels three steps behind your smile.
That counts for something,
actually, that counts for a lot.

I know you miss people who don't miss you the same.
I know you give and give and wonder if it's enough.
Sometimes you overthink texts for so long,
you delete them entirely.
Sometimes you feel like the extra puzzle piece
that doesn't quite ft the group anymore.

But here's what you forget,
You are not a mistake.
Not too much.
Not too quiet.
Not too late.
You are exactly who you need to be, even if today doesn't see it yet.

Take your time.
Breath when you feel like breaking.
Cry when the weight gets heavy,
it doesn't make you weak, it makes you real.

And even if no one claps,
I hope you know I'm proud of you.

With love,
Alia ❤️‍🩹

I try.
I try so hard.
But nothing I do
is ever right enough.

They act like they never forget,
like I’m the only one
who ever makes mistakes.

And this week?
I’ve lost count
of how many people
left me bruised
with words they didn’t even think twice about.

I hate this.
This version of life
that doesn’t feel like mine.
Why can’t it go back
to when I could still smile
without faking it?

Why does it feel
like I’m the only one
who’s always breaking
in silence?

I wear a mask,
and so does everyone.
Hiding cracks with smiles,
pretending it’s fine.
Maybe one day,
I’ll let it fall—
but for now,
we all stay hidden,
behind the masks we wear.

I HATE BEING UNDERESTIMATED.
ESPECIALLY BY MEN.

IF IM A WOMAN,
DOESN'T MEAN I CANT LEAD,
DOESN'T MEAN I CANT DO STUFF YOU GUYS CAN.

STOP UNDERESTIMATING US GIRLS.
SOME OF US ARE FCKIN TIRED OF IT.

i smile

    (like i’m fine)

        but

each word  
        each look  
              each silence  

          chips away

                and

     i sink,

                 slowly  
                        quietly  
                              invisibly

     until

       nothing.

         just
             me

               pretending
                  to be
                    okay.

Stuck in a group I didn’t choose,
Left to clean up while they just cruise.
They joke, they stall, they waste time,
Yet act like their work’s as good as mine.

One barks orders, stands so tall,
Yet does nothing, nothing at all.
And the other leader? Just sits back,
Leaving me to pick up slack.

I bite my tongue, I hold it tight,
Till I snap and set it right.
I burned them down, I let it out,
No more patience, no more doubt.

And you know what? I won’t lie,
I don’t regret it, not this time.

Step 1: Smile.
Step 2: Forget why.
Step 3: Keep your voice steady
when your soul is not.
Step 4: Pretend it’s fine.
(Everyone else is.)

Step 5: Fold your feelings
into paper birds.
Set them loose.
Watch them burn mid-air.
Clap softly.
Repeat.

There is no final step.
You just keep going
until you don’t know
what breaking feels like anymore.

1.   A bruise on my palm from holding on too tightly
2.   The sound of glass humming when the train passes
3.   A laugh I didn’t mean to escape
4.   Your name, written backwards, because I didn’t want anyone to
       read it but me
5.   A moth dying quietly against the lamp
6.   The taste of rain and metal
7.   The question I still haven’t asked
8.   That strange feeling that the streetlight is watching me
9.   A heartbeat that doesn’t know where to belong tonight

Hopefully, the doors will open wide,
And I’ll step inside, full of pride.
The scent of sugar, warm and sweet,
A dream that started from just a beat.

Flour on my hands, a spark in my heart,
Every recipe, a work of art.
Late nights, early days, endless tries,
Turning failures into highs.

They’ll walk in, drawn by the smell,
Of vanilla, cinnamon—I know it well.
A cozy place, laughter and light,
A little café, warm and bright.

Maybe they'll say, "I love this place,"
With smiles that make my heart race.
And I’ll know, through all the strife,
I baked my dreams into life.

I am cruel.
     No one said it,
         I carved it into my own skull.

I am not worthy.
     Every breath feels stolen,
         every little smile a lie.

I am tired.
    Of existing.
    Of failing before I even begin.

I am nothing.
    And nothing
        is easier
           to believe
              than hope.

Some people laugh,
but they’re hurting inside.
They say, “I’m fine,”
with tears they hide.
So always be gentle,
you never quite know,
who’s faking the light
while feeling the low.