self-care
-
At three in the morning, survival looks less like magic and more like a chipped mug, vitamins, cold water, and the promise to wake up tomorrow.
-
After sunset, the brave face comes off and loneliness settles beside the cold cup, asking to be felt instead of outrun.
-
After the last bottle and the day’s final demand, a quiet smoke becomes less about escape and more about returning to herself.
-
Smoke becomes a small place to unclench when grief and the world demand more weight than one body should have to carry.
Between Bruises & Blooms 