Through My Eyes
I return to me...
My love for writing—
for stringin’ emotions into syllables,
for pourin’ pain into poetry
and joy into paragraphs—
it saved me.
Still saves me.
Every. Damn. Time.
And my camera?
It ain’t just glass and buttons.
It’s my second heart.
It captures what I feel,
when I can’t say it.
Moments the world would miss,
but my spirit refuses to forget.
I see beauty where others glance.
I see me in shadows,
in reflections,
in the quiet curve of a smile.
I catch grief mid-air
and freeze it in light,
just so I can breathe through it.
I lost sight once.
Of the girl who felt everything too deep.
Of the woman who kept silencing her own brilliance.
But no more.
Never again.
I won’t lose me in this world.
Not when my lens still finds the truth.
Not when my words still catch fire
every time I pick up the pen.
This love?
This calling?
It ain’t a hobby.
It’s a resurrection.
