I come from hunger and hollow rooms, from whispers swallowed in the dark where broken meant surviving, and love was earned in silence. These pages hold my younger self, her scraped knees and soft rebellions, the weight of stories buried deep beneath a child’s small ribs. Each poem is a step I took, barefoot through memory, bleeding truth onto the path that led me back to me. This is my voice not loud, but lasting. Not perfect, but real.
The Poet’s Journey is my way home.
