My heart don’t come wrapped in caution tape.
It shows up raw
sleeves soaked in stories
I never got to finish telling.
I don’t do surface.
I don’t do safe.
I love loud,
I break loud,
and I rebuild louder.

I’m impatient
not because I’m spoiled,
but because I’ve spent too many nights
waiting on people
who said forever
but meant "for now."
I know what it feels like
to water dead things,
to fight for answers
in silence that screams.

Still
I chase patience
like it’s the only thing
that’ll keep me from burning bridges
I know I’ll miss.

Some days, I’m soft.
Other days, I’m smoke.
But every day,
I’m real.
And that’s rare.
I don’t hide behind pretty.
I don’t speak in filters.
You get all of me
even the messy parts,
even the parts I haven’t forgiven yet.

I give love like it’s holy.
Like maybe this time
it won’t leave me praying for closure.
I write poems in my mind
while people pretend not to see me
but I keep showing up
like I still believe
in the good kind of love.

My transparency
ain’t weakness.
It’s my rebellion.
It’s my power.
It’s me saying
I’d rather be felt too deep
than swallowed halfway.

So if I’m too much,
good.
That means you saw me.
That means my truth made you flinch.
That means I did exactly
what I came to do
be real,
and be unforgettable.