Unhinged description of me

A woman made of contradictions and unfinished thoughts. half poetry, half rage.

Romanticizes solitude yet aches to be understood.

Collects books like relics, grief like pressed flowers, and thoughts too dangerous to say out loud.

Somewhere between a witch in the woods and a girl spiraling at 2 a.m., overthinking a sentence she said three years ago.

Equal parts tenderness and bitterness, forever haunted by beautiful things, ugly truths, and the unbearable audacity of people