I began writing when silence became too heavy to bear.
Words were my way of holding on — to people, to places, to memories that refused to fade.
My mother was a teacher, and through her, I learned that love can be a lesson and grief, a kind of education.
Every poem I write is a continuation of her classroom — quiet, honest, and filled with light for anyone trying to find their way through the dark.
Over time, writing became more than survival.
It became witness — to loss, to healing, to the fragile strength that exists between both.
My work lives in those in-between spaces — where heartbreak meets hope, where endings and beginnings overlap.
If you’ve ever felt unseen, unheard, or suspended between what was and what will be —
you’ll find a home here.
