Water does not announce itself.
It accumulates. It presses. It waits.
What enters it does not remain the same,whether it survives or not.
I did not learn how to leave.
I learned how to remain.
I did not surface.
I learned how to live here.
Some names are learned by listening long enough.This collection speaks from beneath the surface, where survival becomes a way of knowing and silence carries its own intelligence.
Empathy, Polyamory, Introversion, and Compersion
A personal exploration of whether empathy, polyamory, introversion, and compersion meaningfully overlap, and what it feels like to live at the intersection of all four.
