
Unmade
A poem about the quiet power of being unmade.
A meditation on the art of giving without vanishing and how we need self-love to love others.
For the moments when you feel lost or overwhelmed. Stop striving, be still, and trust.
This is the poem that begins it all — the origin of the name I write under, Salt & Pen.
A quiet reflection on the beauty, resilience, and memory held in the bodies that carry us.
A quiet reflection on the beauty, resilience, and memory held in the bodies that carry us.
Healing dismantles the life you knew—and invites you to rebuild something truer, piece by piece.
A reflection on how trauma blurs our instincts, and how healing begins with trusting ourselves again.
A meditation on the beauty and chaos of emotions, and the importance of honoring them without giving them control.
Letting your heart lead can feel uncertain, but it brings you home to yourself.
A quiet reckoning with the cost of self-abandonment—and a tender invitation to come home to yourself.
The right people will recognize your truth, and telling your story is how you find them.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing what to carry, and what to finally set down.
This is about the quiet power of putting words into the world so no one feels alone.
Some beauty wrecks you in the best way, breaking your heart just enough to keep it open.
This is a love note to the part of you that still dares to hope for something unexpectedly beautiful to unfold.
Leave space for wonder, for magic, and for something beautiful you never saw coming.
You were never too much. This post is for anyone learning to love themselves and to take up space.
Even beautiful days can leave us aching. Messy feelings still deserve space and love.
Not all hunger is physical. The soul longs for depth, presence, and real conversation.
Unprocessed emotions live in the body. True healing begins with safety, not time.
Letting go of emotional armor isn’t weakness. It’s the quiet work of becoming whole again.
A tender reflection on pain and slowly learning to see them as sources of light.
There is a quiet pull between safety and growth, and the process of blooming.
A quiet reflection on the beauty, resilience, and memory held in the bodies that carry us.
A quiet reflection on the beauty, resilience, and memory held in the bodies that carry us.
Healing dismantles the life you knew—and invites you to rebuild something truer, piece by piece.
A reflection on how trauma blurs our instincts, and how healing begins with trusting ourselves again.
A meditation on the beauty and chaos of emotions, and the importance of honoring them without giving them control.
Letting your heart lead can feel uncertain, but it brings you home to yourself.
A meditation on the art of giving without vanishing and how we need self-love to love others.
A quiet reckoning with the cost of self-abandonment—and a tender invitation to come home to yourself.
The right people will recognize your truth, and telling your story is how you find them.
This is about the quiet power of putting words into the world so no one feels alone.
Some beauty wrecks you in the best way, breaking your heart just enough to keep it open.
This is a love note to the part of you that still dares to hope for something unexpectedly beautiful to unfold.
Leave space for wonder, for magic, and for something beautiful you never saw coming.
You were never too much. This post is for anyone learning to love themselves and to take up space.
Even beautiful days can leave us aching. Messy feelings still deserve space and love.
Not all hunger is physical. The soul longs for depth, presence, and real conversation.
Unprocessed emotions live in the body. True healing begins with safety, not time.
Letting go of emotional armor isn’t weakness. It’s the quiet work of becoming whole again.
A tender reflection on pain and slowly learning to see them as sources of light.
There is a quiet pull between safety and growth, and the process of blooming.