Midnight on set, leather on my skin, and silence louder than the cameras around me. Theyβre filming a scene but Iβm living one. Red lights, cold air, and a stare that says Iβve seen things you wouldnβt survive. This isnβt acting. This is just me, unscripted.
Wrapped in clouds and basketballs, pretending Iβm not tired of being strong all the time. The room is dark but Iβm glowing in my own soft way. Sometimes comfort looks like a blanket, sometimes it looks like choosing peace over performance.
Eyes closed, heart loud. Gold chains on my skin, fur on my shoulders, and a silence that speaks more than words ever could. Iβm learning that strength doesnβt always roar. Sometimes it just stands still, breathing, existing, letting the world watch.
Black on black, eyes that donβt blink. Not trying to be mysterious, I just donβt have the energy to explain myself tonight. The flash hits, the world goes quiet, and for 3 seconds I let the camera see what I usually hide.