Life doesn't come with a map.
It throws curveballs, storms, and silence.
You take the hits. You get back up.
You wear the scars like armor—not shame.

Not everyone's going to clap when you rise—
Good. You're not here for their applause.
You're here to own your story,
Not beg for a role in someone else's.

The world will try to crush you.
Lie to you.
Tell you you're too much, or not enough.
Laugh when you fall.
Doubt when you speak.
But guess what?

They don’t get to define you.
You are forged, not broken.
Bent, not beaten.
Every bruise is a blueprint.
Every fall, fuel.

So break the rules they wrote for you.
Set fire to the limits.
And walk—no, run—into the life
you were told you couldn't have.

when I was little I was always bubbly and happy
over time things changed
the smiles became forced
wanting to dress up and stand out became wanting to seem small and fit in
wanting to love turned into doing anything for love
I hear all the time "just wait till you get to the real world"
but what if I've already seen it
what if that's what changed me
I once was a sweet happy innocent little girl
I'm now a shell of what I once was

Please,
Do not carve wounds upon your skin,
Do not let your blood spill thin.
Instead,
Carve pain in words upon the sheet.
Pour your sorrow out in ink.