This book is a quiet storm — born from confusion, personal unrest, and the fragile clarity that sometimes follows. These poems are not attempts to fix, but to observe: to look at one’s own emotions from a distance, without judgment or pity. They speak of heaviness, of nights that don’t always lead to dawn, and of moments that remain unresolved. Each poem is a mirror — cracked, but honest — reflecting what happens when we stop running and begin to notice.
It’s not a guide. It’s a glance — into the subtle chaos of being.
