haunted emptiness

As I traverse the corridors of my memories, I find myself standing at the threshold of black voids, where warm vibrant moments should have been, could have been. It’s a haunting emptiness, a silent testament to the absence of the love and support every child deserves. In those voids, I’ve learned to find strength, resilience, and the power to redefine my narrative.

Through the shadows of my past, I’ve emerged as a survivor, stitching together the fragments of my shattered innocence. The journey has been arduous, but within the chaos, I’ve discovered the beauty of self-discovery and the ability to rebuild from the ruins of my upbringing. I’ve made beauty from the ashes of my soul.

This isn’t just a story of pain; it’s a testament to the indomitable will to rise above adversity. I share this not for pity, but to shed light on the silent battles many face. Let it be a reminder that even in the darkest corners of our past, we have the power to reclaim our narrative, redefine our worth, and forge a future filled with the love and compassion we always deserved.