You are magic

you are magic
not the kind you hold in your hands
but the kind that lives under your skin
breathing in sync with your heartbeat
it coils in your bones
ripples through your fingertips
and spills from your eyes
before you even know it’s there
you do not have to try
you do not have to prove
the world bends
toward your quiet gravity
because your presence is a song
that hums itself
into every empty corner
you are the sudden warmth
on a cold day
the pulse beneath someone’s longing
the impossible light
that refuses to be tamed
and when you laugh
when you love
when you simply are
the magic inside you
touches everything

Pieces of her

she had to build herself
from pieces scattered like glass
edges sharp and jagged
cutting the hands
that tried to hold her
she learned to gather them
one by one
pressing cracks into patterns
turning breaks into bridges
pain into architecture
her reflection is a mosaic
not whole in the way
the world expects
but whole in the way she chose
stronger in the places
that once bled
beautiful in the places
that were broken

After you

I thought love would leave
like a door closing
one last final click
instead it stayed
as a draft in the house of my chest
moving things when I wasn’t looking
your name became a season
I didn’t know how to dress for
every song was too thin
every silence too loud
I learned the weight of minutes
by how long it took
not to call you

grief is strange
it doesn’t break you in half
it teaches you how to carry
a whole missing person
without dropping anything else

and some nights
when the world is very still
I swear I feel my heart
reach for what used to be there
like a hand still clutching shadows
it cannot hold anymore


Some days

some days
the mind is a house
with flickering lights
rooms you avoid
because they echo too loudly
you smile in the doorway
tell others you’re fine
while the ceiling drips
old fears you never fixed

thoughts pace
like restless ghosts at 3 a.m.
rattling memories
that refuse to be ignored

you learn that strength
is not the armor you wear
but the calm you hold
when no one is watching

healing isn’t a sunrise
that sweeps away the night
it’s learning the dark has furniture

you bruise
you rest
you try again tomorrow

some nights
the darkness loosens its grip
not to vanish
just enough to let you breathe

you don’t defeat the quiet
you live with it
and that
somehow
is light

Rewritten

we move through each other
like tides reshaping the shore
every curve and hollow
a sentence
every sigh a punctuation
in the quiet grammar of touch

time slows
and we exist in the tremor
between breath and heartbeat
between wanting and surrender

fingers trace the landscapes of skin
like cartographers of desire
learning the secret geography
following a hidden path

there is a language here
no word can capture
no silence can still
only the rhythm of two bodies
speaking in pulses and pauses
in glances in whispers
in the flutter of letting go

and when it ends
we are not separate
we are a map rewritten
a song unfinished
a moment held
between earth and sky
between you and me

Leave me now

leave me now
before the light learns our names
before the walls memorize your breath
go while goodbye is still a door
and not a wound
while silence can pass for mercy

leave me now 
while your absence is still honest
before it sharpens into regret
I can survive the clean cut of an ending
but not the slow ache of almost
don’t stay long enough 
to turn memory cruel
or teach my hands to reach 
for what won’t return

leave me now
not because I am empty
but because I am full of what we were
and there is no room left 
for you to fade gently

In her eyes

her dark eyes carry the weight 
of stories never told aloud
they are deep wells of knowing
reflecting both the tenderness 
she gives freely
and the ache she keeps hidden 
they hold the hush
of midnight rooms 
and the echo of emotions 
that learned to survive
without language 
in them lives a patience 
shaped by longing
a softness that’s guarded 
by storms already weathered 
her eyes do not ask
to be understood 
they ask to be felt
and once they are they linger
long after the moment has passed


When I’m gone

when I’m gone
I won’t leave emptiness
I’ll leave a quiet shift
the room will still breathe
just differently
you’ll feel me in pauses
in the way light hesitates on the wall
in the thought
you almost finish aloud
you’ll reach for words 
and find my absence already there
settled in the pauses
teaching you how to listen differently
I won’t be lost
I’ll be threaded through the ordinary
in the way light lingers
in the breath you take
before letting go
in every moment
that asks you to slow down
and feel what’s still here

I won’t be missing
I’ll be everywhere
you learned to look twice

Come to me (Audio)

Come to me
not as you are expected to be
but as you are 
when no one is watching
come with your tired thoughts
your half-healed memories
the quiet ache 
you never found words for
I am not asking for perfection
I am asking for truth

come to me 
like the evening
comes to the sky
slow inevitable gentle
like waves
returning to the shore
even after they’ve been broken
come when the world
feels too loud
when your name feels heavy
in your own mouth
I will not rush you
I will sit with you in the pause
and call that enough

come to me
and rest
because even the strongest hearts
deserve somewhere safe to land