i’ve never felt real. not once—not in the way other people seem to be, with their voices carrying weight and their movements carving space. everything that has ever happened to me feels like it happened to someone else—like a dream i only half-remember. the moments slip through my fingers, leaving behind faint impressions, blurry and insubstantial. my life feels less like something i’ve lived and ... » Continue Reading
at seventeen, i feel like i’m collapsing in on myself, as if my body has turned against me too soon. my bones ache like ancient wood, splintering under the weight of a life barely lived. every joint feels swollen with rust, creaking with each movement, brittle and fragile, as if one wrong step could shatter me entirely. i wake up each morning with the same thought: is this the day i finally break?... » Continue Reading
tw: religious trauma there are nights when the darkness feels alive, curling its fingers around my throat, whispering ancient hymns that sound more like curses. in those moments, i can feel God’s eyes on me—not the gentle gaze from stained glass windows, but something piercing, all-knowing, suffocating. the weight of His omniscience presses against my chest until i can hardly breathe, and i wonder... » Continue Reading