Not In The Mood

I don’t want to be someone’s project. To fix. To untangle. To polish into their version of better. I am not in the mood to be a blueprint for someone else’s healing. Never been in the mood to be a before and after photo hanging in the hallway of someone else’s pride. I want for better or for worse— not the sanitized script but the trembling, truth-heavy kind souls speak in when bodies are tired but hearts still burn. We are souls, each of us.. ancient, weathered, wearing skin like a temporary robe. But some forget. And their forgetting feels like a death I can’t name. They love with conditions. They touch only surfaces. They try to rewrite me as if I don’t remember what I came here to feel. But I remember. I remember that soulmates walk this earth in clusters— a flicker in the eyes, a silence that feels like home, a chaos that is somehow peace. They are here.. not to perfect, not to fix, but simply to love. As souls would. Through the storms, and the stillness. Through the ache, and the miracle. For better. For worse. For real.