Life got so serious,
I forgot I once knew how to slow down.
I forgot how much I loved doing makeup,
for myself and for others.
How happy it made me
to sit in front of a mirror,
blending colors,
feeling pretty,
and helping other people feel beautiful too.
I forgot the girl
who filled empty pages with poetry,
turning quiet feelings
into something soft enough to read twice.
I forgot the comfort
of getting lost inside books,
living a hundred little lives
in between long days of my own.
Not because life became bad,
but because life became full.
Full of responsibilities,
deadlines,
laundry,
work calls,
and little hands reaching for me
before the sun even rises.
Somewhere along the way,
I became so focused on building a life
that I forgot to visit the parts of me
that made me feel alive too.
But maybe they were never gone.
Maybe theyâve just been waiting.
patiently,
quietly,
for me to come back home to myself.
And little by little,
I will.
