The Hidden Journal

There’s a vastness inside me I used to be afraid of.
I mistook it for emptiness —
a hollow echo I didn’t know how to fill.

───

But now I see it differently.
It isn’t a void.
It’s space — a place where new things can breathe.

───

The sky inside me holds storms and sunsets alike.
It doesn’t pick favorites.
It just expands to hold them all.

───

I used to chase freedom in other people,
in faraway places,
in futures that shimmered just beyond reach.
But freedom was never out there.
It was the quiet permission
to take up space in my own skin.

───

I carry so many skies now —
grief, joy, memory, mercy —
and somehow they all fit.
Maybe that’s what healing really is:
learning to stretch without breaking.

— Desiree