I MELT TO REMEMBER WHO I AM

What if you’re not falling apart?

but shedding, layer by layer, everything you never truly were?
What if this isn’t chaos but the moment your energy outgrows its old container?
Closed eyes don’t mean silence here.
They mean an internal explosion.
A dissolving of the image. A new version of you being born.
No shape. No borrowed words. Just pure power.