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The Woman on the Train

Time had slipped past 2 PM. I rushed through the streets of Southampton, my breath uneven, my heart pounding….not from exertion, but from the familiar dizziness creeping in. I had barely eaten since morning, and with my low blood pressure and iron deficiency, that was always a dangerous mistake. But I had done it again, forgetting even to drink water. It was a curse I carried, one that had sent…

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Last Autumn

Last autumn, I went for a walk. The streets were covered in leaves…scattered, trampled, forgotten. They belonged to no one. I stepped over them without thinking. Then, suddenly, a leaf flew toward me. It struck my chest with unexpected force. I stumbled and fell. For a moment, I stayed on the ground, disoriented. When I sat up, the leaf was lying beside me, perfectly still, as if it had always…

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Last Autumn 🍂

Last autumn, I went for a walk. The streets were covered in leaves—scattered, trampled, forgotten. They belonged to no one. I stepped over them without thinking. Then, suddenly, a leaf flew toward me. It struck my chest with unexpected force. I stumbled and fell. For a moment, I stayed on the ground, disoriented. When I sat up, the leaf was lying beside me, perfectly still, as if it had always…

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Last Autumn 🍂

Last autumn, I found a leaf. It didn’t seem ordinary. Perhaps it was nothing, but it felt like something—something not of this world. Its golden edges, frayed by an unknown force, had been worn away as if time itself had been carrying it far, far from where it began. But still, it had fallen before me, as though it had decided this moment, this place, was where it was meant to be. I stared at it…

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six again

every time my heart breaks i’m six again sitting on the floor holding my teddy bear crying for what’s gone i try to eat but nothing tastes right the emptiness too big to fill with food my teddy was everything soft and safe now there’s only space where it used to be don’t hope for anything after all, isn’t it only when you hope that you end up grieving later? i thought i outgrew…

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the cost of hope

every time someone hurts my heart i’m 16 again not knowing what to do lost in the ache that swallows me whole a heart tangled in dreams that never come true the world feels too big but i’m stuck in my small room hoping things will change but knowing deep down they never do i wear my tears like a cloak pretend that i’m fine but i’m shivering inside as the echoes of old…

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the way I know it mattered

when my heart breaks i am sixteen again sitting on the bathroom floor counting the cracks in the tiles as if they were fractures in me my chest is small but somehow holds an ocean of ache my hands trembling, holding pieces of someone else’s promises as if they could ever fit back together pain reminds me it was real that i loved them pain is the only way to realize that i thought i…

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my father’s love

my father never let me sleep on an empty stomach even when my anger was the wall between us his first question at the dining table was always about me— did she eat? i am not the daughter he deserves not perfect, not obedient, just a storm of flaws wrapped in a child but he never asked for perfect only that i stay safe, stay full, stay his when i forgot my lunch he crossed…

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Beyond the Rain

I often think about my own death. It might come on a rainy day, the kind where the clouds hang low, heavy with unshed grief. The wind would howl, not like a lament, but like an argument, angry and unresolved. People would move quickly, heads bowed, huddled under umbrellas, their raincoats gleaming with water. They would not call me by my name anymore. I would simply be the body. “When will the…

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Too Much Too Open

Life feels strange, like I’ve lost my footing in a place I used to know so well. My heart feels heavy, but I can’t tell if it’s because I feel too much or if it’s because I’m too much for others. Am I the problem? Is my love too big, too strong, too messy? I don’t know how to stop giving all of myself, but I worry that by doing so, I overwhelm the people around me. When I love, I don’t just give…

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hurt

hurt is not a sharp thing but someone has cut deep down where no one looks and now breathing feels like dragging shards of glass into your chest it is quiet and invisible but it is there somewhere deep in the folds of you something has split open you feel it leaking and no one can see it except you they ask why you’re quiet why your eyes seem far away but how do you explain that…

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numb

numb is not the absence of pain it is the weight of it pressed so deep into your chest that you can no longer feel where it begins or ends. it is the silence after the storm, the stillness of a body too tired to ache, a heart too broken to beat loudly. numb is staring at the ceiling with eyes that cannot cry, holding hands that cannot tremble, moving through days like a ghost in…

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numb

numb is not the absence of pain it is the weight of it pressed so deep into your chest that you can no longer feel where it begins or ends. it is the silence after the storm, the stillness of a body too tired to ache, a heart too broken to beat loudly. numb is staring at the ceiling with eyes that cannot cry, holding hands that cannot tremble, moving through days like a ghost in…

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The Illusion of Being

People often ask me what life is, and I, for one, am unsure. I struggle with it constantly, as though the answer is hidden behind some impenetrable veil, a veil that I am doomed to tear at and never lift. To me, life is not a grand, noble journey, but a strange, suffocating prison where the bars are invisible, and yet they are always there, pressing down upon my chest. I walk through this world,…

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the way i remember you

if i ever speak of you again i will speak of you like poetry for you loved me so fiercely i was convinced i was holy how lucky i was to be held by hands that would ruin the world just to lift me up i remember you now more than i ever knew you your love left fingerprints on places i had forgotten and even now i feel the weight of it in the quietest corners of me you worshipped…

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to be human

to be human is to carry both the wound and the balm in your hands to know the sharp sting of hurt and still choose to reach out softly it is to fall apart a thousand times over yet rise again on the strength of a whispered hope a hand offered, a shoulder leaned on we are all learning how to hold our broken pieces like they are something sacred to wear our scars like…

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Grey Morning

This morning, I woke too early, long before the day had anything to offer me. No tasks waited, no ambitions stirred. It was the kind of day meant for slipping between book pages or surrendering to an easy, drifting sleep. Yet here I was, awake in the dimness, staring at a world that has somehow tumbled through eleven months of existence while leaving me untouched, or perhaps, emptied. I opened…