This is a collection about the things we rarely know how to say.Through metaphors of flowers, bridges, scars, abandoned ships, empty plates, old machines and ordinary mornings, these poems explore what it means to live with a mind that can sometimes feel impossible to inhabit.They are about self-harm and the marks it leaves behind. About hunger, exhaustion and losing touch with your own body. About the thoughts that appear in the darkest places, and the quiet, ordinary reasons to stay. About feeling lost within yourself, learning to sit with your own mind, and slowly discovering that recovery doesn't always look like becoming who you were before.Some poems are dark. Some are hopeful. Most exist somewhere between the two.Because healing is rarely a straight line.Sometimes it is simply another morning, another page, another breath.And sometimes, after everything, the flowers bloom again.
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