i will keep writing, even if no one reads,
etching words for those who shut their doors;
i will not fall quiet.

i will keep dancing, even when the music falls silent,
even if the earth forgets to spin
and gravity itself abandons me.

i will keep loving, even when love turns its back,
even when it returns only in fragments,
even when it burns me raw.
for i am the kind of soul who lays friendship
gently above the weight of heartbreak,
who believes that loss does not erase love;
it only teaches me how to hold it differently.

i will be kind and good, not because the world begs for it,
but because my own heart hungers for it.
i claim that fire for myself.

i will shout even when my voice trembles,
even when tears spill like confession.
i will stand though my knees buckle;
i am not one to bow to silence.

and i will love –
even when no part of me feels lovable,
even when others tear me open,
for what is broken still glimmers,
and what survives will always rise.

this is how i turn every fracture into bloom:
when you water the little things, they rise into everything.
i will stitch myself back together with languages i cannot speak and sunsets that slip through my fingers.
because even in the dark, i am still becoming light.