The Hidden Journal

There was a time I only entered the quiet
when I needed to escape.
Now, it’s where I go to remember who I am.

───

Silence used to scare me.
It echoed too loudly —
every thought, every memory,
every version of me I hadn’t forgiven yet.

───

But with time,
the quiet softened.
It stopped demanding.
It started holding.

───

Now I see it for what it is —
a home.
A space that doesn’t ask me to perform.
A place where I can lay my truth down
and let it breathe.

───

The home inside the quiet
has no walls.
Just openness —
the kind that lets peace wander freely,
the kind that doesn’t end when I leave it behind.

───

Wherever I go,
it follows —
this stillness,
this gentle knowing,
this quiet that calls me back
when the world gets too loud.

───

— Desiree