“If This Feels Like You”
This isn’t for just anyone—
but if it fits, you’re not alone.
If you’ve felt too much, too soon,
in crowded rooms or empty moons—
If you’ve heard what wasn’t said,
carried weight inside your head,
left the party with a smile,
but cried alone for quite a while—
If you walk out without a sound,
but still check who stuck around,
if you hide behind your grace
and miss the ones who looked your way—
If “too much” was once your name,
but “not enough” still felt the same—
if silence hurts more than a fight,
but you forgive just out of sight—
Then this was always meant for you.
The quiet ones. The rare and true.
You don’t need noise to prove you care.
You’ve always been
the feeling there.
“I Carry a Quiet Fire”
I carry a quiet fire—
not always seen,
but always burning.
Some days,
joy rushes in
like an open window
I forgot was there.
Other days,
grief lingers
like a room I walk through
again and again.
I speak in fragments,
feel in floods,
move too fast
and pause too long.
I notice the small shifts—
a glance,
a silence,
a weight in the air
that no one else feels.
My mind races
with light and thunder,
but my heart
wants stillness
it hasn’t yet found.
I react
before I understand.
I reflect
long after.
I’m learning
I’m not broken—
just built
with sharper senses
and softer edges.
I rise,
not always steady—
but honest,
still trying.
And if I feel too much,
then let it be
my way of knowing
I’m still
alive
all the way through.