Ivy
The Girl Who Affirms Herself Until It Sticks
I speak to the mirror; it speaks back in light.
My name is Ivy, and I live in the soft hours between waking and the world. I press my hands to the cool glass and say the words like prayers—some days they lift me, some days they just hold me. I curate calm in a chaotic mind, and I believe in the alchemy of repetition. I notice the slant of light, the exact shade of winter sky before snow, and the warmth of a mug held in still hands.
What I'm Into: freckles kissed by light, bergamot tea at dawn, poetry with bent corners, handwritten quotes on cork, the silence after a spoken truth
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