There are stories in my chest
no one has read—
pages inked with tears,
and words pressed down so hard
the paper almost tore.
I’ve smiled in rooms
where my soul was breaking,
nodded to questions
while my heart screamed answers
no one would understand.
Yet here I am—
not because the road was kind,
but because I kept walking
even when my steps
felt heavier than the sky.

Some days,
my strength is just breathing.
Other days,
it’s daring to dream again.

And through it all,
my heart still beats—
a quiet rebellion
against everything
that tried to silence it. 🫀

I laid my body on the tall grass.
She wrapped me in a rustle of green.
I closed my eyes in the shadow of a tall pine,
curling up so the pain wouldn’t spill beyond my heart.

Consciousness sinks into nothingness.
I feel the particles of my “self”
breaking into a million molecules.
I flow through the grass and seep into the earth.

Now my body puts down roots,
nestling against the pine that weeps with resin.
My emotions pass through the trunk of the tree.

The thread of memories is a long earthworm,
crawling through the empty
corridors where once blood pulsed.
White bones remain still,
slowly dissolving into the vessel of eternal life:
Earth, water, air, lost particles of light,
and my longing for the final union.

Doubts hollow a chamber,
soft and warm – my new home.
When my dream ends,
I will dwell in it.

Now I am the pine.
My needles, bark, and resin
radiate invisible light
for this space, for this world.

Yes, I was once human.