I still look for you, in every room I enter — longing for your approval as I walk through the door. When it shuts behind me, the lock slams, deafening the room — quiet, and cold, my self-made tomb. I left your cup out, for your coffee in the morning....
Two months ago, I started writing to survive the hardest season of my life. Today, those poems became my first chapbook: In the Ashes of Rebirth. It’s a small collection about grief, growth, and finding light after everything burns down. You can get it on Gumroad for $1+. → Get...
Who Answers the Door? When an emotion arises, who is it that notices? I don’t mean your body — that would ignore your mind. And I don’t mean your mind — that would forget the experience your body has endured. Who is it that answers the door when sadness knocks?...