They call it protection but it feels like a cage with polite words, like hands on my shoulders pushing me back into a life that never asked who I am. They say be careful, as if I were glass, as if I couldn’t tell the difference between a knife and a hand that holds me steady. The ones they fear fo...Read more

There are words waiting at the back of my throat, fragile things with shaking hands and broken breath, but I keep swallowing them whole. Not because they aren’t real, not because they don’t ache— but because once spoken, they would become yours too. And I’m terrified of that. Terrified you’d hear...Read more

I move through days like a guest in places I’m supposed to belong. At school, I sit in chairs that never feel like mine, surrounded by voices that pass through me like I’m already fading. The noise follows me home — but home isn’t softer. It’s just another room where I learn how to be small, how t...Read more

She was a beautiful almost, the kind that stays in your throat long after her name is gone. I had her in the quiet moments— in the way her hand brushed mine and didn’t move away right away, in the way her smile softened like she was about to stay. But almost is a cruel distance. It’s close enough ...Read more