There’s no grand plan here — just a place to let the words land.
I’ve written in notebooks, on napkins, and in the quiet moments between things.
In my head while walking. In my heart when no one was listening.
Now, I’ll write here.
Some of it might be poetry. Some of it may not.
That’s the beauty of thoughts — they arrive how they like.
This space isn’t loud, but it’s alive.
A soft corner where things can unfurl.
You’re welcome to read along — or simply pass through.
The words will be here, like wildflowers.
Blooming anyway.