π₯ Entry 023 // I Wasn't Meant to Bloom Here
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Some places choke you softly.
With love. With silence. With tradition.
I tried to bloom in dead soil β
watered by guilt, lit by expectation.
They said I was growing.
I was rotting gracefully.
You can outgrow your own roots.
You can love your family and still leave the table.
You can whisper goodbye without guilt in your throat.
Gospel 023:
Not every garden is meant for you.
π₯ Reflection:
What part of your past are you still pretending feels like home?