You don’t have to rise like the sun each day—
some mornings, it's enough just to open your eyes,
to sit with the silence,
to feel your heartbeat and whisper, “I’m still here.”

You are not the storm that passed,
nor the ruins it left behind.
You are the seed under the soil,
waiting for the right rain,
the quiet miracle of a soul not giving up.

Let no one shame the pace of your healing.
Let no voice drown out the hush of your trying.
Because surviving is not small.
And breathing, on hard days,
is a kind of bravery the world forgets to praise.

So rest, dreamer.
You don’t need to shine tonight.
You just need to stay—
soft, alive,
and wildly worthy of tomorrow.

I like to pretend the storm that's been raging around me isn't man made, I like to think you're still sleeping on the other side of the bed, I always hope I wakeup to your lips instead of drunken phone calls & empty threats, I think about your hands more than I should and I think about nights in your bed more than I do anything else. I like to remember how you'd smile when you woke up & how you'd pull me closer while you were sleeping. I hope you know your steady breathing was the only thing keeping me sane. I see you in my dreams and I can feel you on my tongue. I wake up to a clenched jaw and grinding teeth, & missed calls from numbers I don't recognise with voices I don't remember. the only number I can remember is yours.

I should’ve
waited
for someone
like
her to
come
into my
life.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

My faith is mine
And mine alone.

This hope,
You cannot take away.

I’ll be drained
Of each drop of blood,
You’ll drag my name
Through the cherry-stained mud,
But my soul, my soul, my soul
Is saved.

My soul, my soul,
Is saved.

Carousel of clouds,
Tufts of white in a blue sky,
Merrily go round,
Up — down—up celebrating,
The carnival of morning.