Between Bruises & Blooms

Some nights
I do not want sleep.

Sleep means
lying still enough
to hear myself think.

So I go to Prythian.

I walk beneath
a night sky
that feels more merciful
than my own ceiling.

I let Velaris
glow somewhere
behind my eyes—

a city untouched,
beautiful enough
to make me forget
the mess waiting
on the other side
of morning.

If that world
stops working,
I find Terrasen.

I borrow someone else's war.

Someone else's grief.

Someone else's impossible task
of rebuilding
after everything burns.

And somehow
watching fictional women
crawl out of ruins
makes my own ruins
feel less permanent.

Then there is Lunathion—

neon lights,
magic,
monsters,
grief dressed up
in sharp teeth
and bad decisions.

I can live there too.

I can live
almost anywhere
when it is four in the morning

and my own mind
has become
the one kingdom
I cannot escape.

So I turn another page.

Start another chapter.

Return to another court.

Because sometimes
I need a world
where pain
eventually becomes power.

Where scars
mean survival.

Where the broken girl
still gets a sword.

And where morning
doesn't come
until I close the book.