I Wrote This Instead of Screaming

I write to survive.

These poems are the pieces of me I never had the words for until now — rage I was told to swallow, grief I was told to silence, hope I tried to kill and couldn’t. Most days, I don’t write because I want to. I write because I have to. Because something cracks open and demands to be seen.

My work lives in the in-between: between fury and tenderness, despair and defiance, memory and forgetting. I write about trauma, identity, systems that break us, and the stubborn ache of still being here.

This space is my reckoning. My catharsis. My quiet refusal to disappear.