These are not poems. This is not a story. This is my soul poured into words. That voice you hear in your head as you read this, that's me. I don't know where I am, but I'm talking to you. Isn't that a miracle? You're hearing the fading echoes of what makes me human. Here you will find no rhyme and little to no reason. There's darkness and fear, but also love and hope. As you read me, I exist. Even if it's only for a minute.