You ask for pieces of me,
Raw, unfiltered, untamed by the world.
Not the polished smiles or staged lights,
But the chaos I hold in my quiet nights.

You wish for truths I fear to share,
For words that shatter, not repair.
To touch the storms beneath my calm,
To hear the cries hidden in my psalm.

Do you know what it’s like to bleed in verse,
To find solace yet feel the curse?
To craft a mirror that shows your...