This book found me before I found it. Words came in waves — at 3am, mid-breath, mid-pose. I wrote them down not to remember, but to release.

These are unfiltered thoughts. Raw, honest, sometimes tender, sometimes fierce. Not written to impress, but to transmute — to take what lived in the body and let it breathe on the page. Poetry, for me, is not a performance. It is a practice. A way of listening to what already knows.

If any of these words land in you, they were always meant for you.