love
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Some people leavebecause they are cowards. Some leavebecause staying would cost too much. And some— some tear themselvesout of your lifewith both hands bleeding,because they have convinced themselvestheir absenceis the only gift they have left. A mother stands at the edge of deathand chooses her children. Not softly.Not beautifully. No final lullaby,no gentle apologyfor every…
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In the middle of pain, a little voice asks for Aunty Chy, turning one ordinary call into proof of where comfort lives.
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Laundry, made beds, stocked cupboards, and careful little chores become a countdown to the sound of her boys coming home.
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At four in the morning, the babies sleep, the house belongs to silence, and Honey kneads the weight of the night out of a tired lap.
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Once the babies finally sleep, Honey claims the quiet hours, curling close as though she has been waiting for exhaustion to make room for her.
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The ocean never apologizes for its tides, and neither should a heart be ashamed for loving deeply.
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Where answers should have been, silence leaves echoes, imagined explanations, and the question of whether disappearing was the destination all along.
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She gave more than effort; she emptied whole rooms of herself into a dream that eventually became a place she had to leave.
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At 12:10 p.m., one sleepy child opens her eyes and morning finally begins on her own stubborn schedule.
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The last time she saw them becomes a scene memory keeps replaying, searching ordinary details for the goodbye it did not recognize yet.
Between Bruises & Blooms 