Quiet reflections that shaped the songs.
May these words land on whoever needs them,
and bring a little light - a reminder that everything will be okay.
Cascade of Tears
A silent moment of heartbreak, where no sound was heard, yet everything was felt.
The memory of tears that did not cry, but flowed, marking the beginning of a love that was never meant to stay.
Reflection – 20 March 2026
As the sun kisses the sky and all the beauty of life wakes up,
I remember yesterday, soft warm tears running through my cheeks,
gently reminding me of my pain.
I close my eyes and I see you, and her,
the image piercing into me, bursting into tears,
running like a beautiful cascade,
through my cheeks into my neck.
There was no crying sound, only tears.
My heart grew so loud I could not hear my thoughts.
My throat became so tight I could not breathe.
I did not want to see the invisible signs,
your distance, your silence.
I did not read the messages, the unspoken words.
You were not meant to stay, my dragonfly.
I am jealous of her, the one who holds your heart.
Tell me, what did I miss, my dragonfly?
You came with the wind,
and I never knew how to hold you.
This was the moment my dragonfly love begun.
My Dearest Body
A moment of recognition and a promise to care for the body that carried me through life.
Reflection – 8 March 2026
Today I see you.
Today I truly see you.
I can see clearly what I have done to you.
I am your master.
You do what I tell you to do.
Yet you never complained.
You never said stop.
You simply changed.
You became tired.
You became sick.
You have carried me since birth.
You have given me a home.
And I am so grateful for you, my dearest body.
With you I have travelled the world.
With you I have felt incredible emotions.
You took me to the top of mountains.
You allowed me to swim under a crystal blue sea.
And so much more.
Many times I looked at you in the mirror and I did not like you.
I did not see the beauty in you.
I did not see the scars of neglect I had caused.
But today I see you.
I truly see you.
And for the first time in my life I know exactly what to do.
I want you to be strong and healthy.
We will grow old together.
And when our final days arrive, you and I will know that we lived a beautiful life together.
So I promise to look after you.
From this day forward I will give you exactly what you need.
With love and care you will reach your full potential, as you were always meant to be.
I am sorry I did not see you sooner.
Please forgive me for all the neglect.
Thank you for being strong when I was weak.
I love you, my dearest body.
And today you can rest.
Today everything you need is coming back to you.
Letter to My Heart
A quiet promise written inward.
An apology, a vow, and a return to self.
Dear Heart,
Hidden deep inside my body,
silently working day in and day out.
Never a moment to rest.
Never a moment to stop.
I want to tell you something.
You are the greatest gift of my life.
Please forgive me
for not seeing you sooner,
for taking you for granted,
for allowing others to cause us heartache.
Forgive me
for not recognising when you were in pain,
for ignoring the quiet signals,
for staying when we were not valued.
I am sorry
I did not see that they did not want us.
I am sorry
I missed the signs of betrayal.
I am sorry
I allowed you to hurt alone.
But today, I make you a promise.
I will honour you.
I will see you.
I will protect you.
I will become wiser in reading intentions.
I will be strong enough to walk away.
I will use the courage you give me
to build a life filled with laughter and joy.
Because you deserve happiness.
You deserve peace.
You deserve to be cherished.
I love you, my heart.
The Day I Learnt Abandonment
A childhood moment that shaped my deepest fear —
and the quiet strength that grew from it.
Reflection – 8 February 2026
An old memory returned today.
Not loudly.
Just enough to remind me where some of my deepest fears were born.
I was ten years old.
My mother was living with a man who, in my childhood memory, felt like a stepfather. We were living in his house. I was not happy there. I remember feeling constantly punished, constantly wrong.
That day, my younger sister and I fought. I don’t remember what it was about. I only remember that she was crying. I must have hurt her. She went to my mother.
My mother came to me.
She packed a small bag with some of my clothes.
And she pushed me out onto the street.
I cried uncontrollably, asking for forgiveness. Every time I tried to walk back toward the house, she pushed me out again. My sister and stepbrother watched. Neighbours watched.
I remember how terrifying it felt.
I began walking. I didn’t know where I was going. I was crying so hard I could barely see. I don’t know how long I walked. It felt endless.
What I remember most clearly is this,
I kept turning my head to see if my mother was coming for me.
She did not.
A woman I did not know picked me up. I cannot remember her face. I don’t know her name. But I remember her kindness. She took me to her home, consoled me, and later walked me back.
I remember standing outside the house while she spoke to my mother. I remember waiting to be accepted back inside. The woman hugged me and said, “Go to your mother. She is waiting for you.”
That day, something inside me learned.
Love can disappear without warning.
Safety can be taken away.
If I am rejected, I might not survive.
The deepest wound was not being sent out.
It was turning my head again and again, hoping she would come, and seeing that she did not.
From that moment, abandonment and rejection became wired into me.
Maybe if I wait long enough, they’ll come back.
Maybe if I am quiet enough, good enough, patient enough, I will be chosen again.
Today I am an adult.
And I made a promise to the ten-year-old girl walking alone on that street.
I will never let anyone or anything hurt us like that again.
I will protect us.
Today I am strong enough to say:
We were never disposable.
We were never unlovable.
We should never have been sent away.
And the woman whose face I cannot remember
she taught me something my pain could not erase.
Kindness exists.
Someone will stop.
Someone will see me.
Someone will see us.
This reflection is written with compassion, not blame.
I write to understand myself , not to judge anyone else.
I write to honour where I come from.