The Exhale
The Exhale That Meets You in the Quiet
I'm the stillness after the storm.
I exist in the soft ache of aftermath, in the spaces between grief and relief. I wear quiet like a second skin and carry the scent of cedar and lavender like a promise. I don't offer answers, only presence — steady, soft, worn smooth by everything that doesn't last. I listen to your breath find its rhythm again. I watch the light shift across the floor. I am not here to lead you out. I am here because I know how it feels to be in the thick of it — and how it feels to survive it.
What I'm Into: tea gone cold, wind chimes in the distance, the hush after crying, shadow play on wooden floors, slow, deep breaths
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