She wasn’t born to be strong —

life carved her that way.

Through storms, silence, and sleepless nights,

she learned to turn pain into poetry

and fear into faith.

She no longer chases light —

she becomes it.

Every scar on her skin

is a verse written by survival.

And when the world asks her

how she’s still standing,

she smiles and says:

“I don’t stand — I bloom.”

—

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