I don’t wear makeup—I wear breath. That lavender silk? Nah. It’s my heartbeat whispering to the wall after midnight. My hair didn’t spill—it escaped the filter like it owed me something real. And yes, I cried quietly… but not for likes. For the quiet corner where silence isn’t empty—it’s where soul remembers how to breathe without asking permission. You too? Drop your filter. Let your hair spill.

P.S. If you’ve ever sat alone and felt seen… comment ‘I’m enough.’ 🌙