self-worth
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She spent too long putting herself on trial for someone else’s silence before realizing the crime was never being too much.
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The goodbye arrived so slowly she mistook it for distance, until silence had already taught her how to live without them.
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They returned after the door had already changed meaning and loneliness was no longer enough reason to let them back in.
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After years of searching for home in other people’s arms, she realizes the place she kept rebuilding was herself.
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She stopped mistaking chaos for love and learned to turn around when a road makes the body remember fear.
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The woman who once waited has already left, and the old door was burned for firewood the moment almost stopped being enough.
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After they left, the fire remained—and grief slowly revealed itself as the same stubborn life still writing, rebuilding, and choosing tomorrow.
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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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There was no final fight or slammed door, only silence cruel enough to make uncertainty feel like a haunted house.
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The harm did not come from some abstract darkness; it had a familiar face, a familiar voice, and choices that belonged to you.
Between Bruises & Blooms 