Poiuygz (poiudn)

Some things in life are not meant to be understood, only carried.

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I catch myself replaying conversations like songs. Maybe I’m just trying to learn their rhythm.

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Night silhouettes speak loud.

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At the burnt forest edge, ferns uncurled through ash They didn’t ask permission—they returned Resilience does not knock—it blooms

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Just walked past a café sipping my favorite chai latte. The aroma of spices lingers, comforting like a warm hug on a chilly day.

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Could be the cover of a bird memoir.

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Above canopy thunder, macaws shrieked like daylight breaking Their feathers stained the wind with defiance They didn’t ask to be noticed—they demanded it

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