#crmonteirowrites

Grief doesn’t knock. It leaks.

Through sentences. Through showers. Through fake smiles and “I’m fine.”

I didn’t write this book for applause. I wrote it because I was leaking.

Even broken things bloom.

I’ll show you how I did.

This book? Written in between sobs. In the dark. At 3 a.m.

I didn’t write it to be pretty. I wrote it to survive.

I didn’t see the light. I just kept walking until I wasn’t in pitch black anymore.

Sometimes healing is that quiet. That slow. That invisible.

But if you're still walking — it counts.

“These aren’t poems. They’re what was left of me when I couldn’t scream anymore.”

Poems from a Depressed Heart Drops August 12