Here and now: Shielded by fragments

My sword is forged from fragments, it isn’t whole – just like me.

I know: strength isn’t about being unshakable. Strength is in allowing yourself to tremble, to open up, to carry the marks of another’s claws on your skin. Tenderness becomes a blade, scars – the seals of power. My butterflies burn too. Not forever gentle, not meek, but blazing.

And this pink light is not about mercy, it is transformation and the magic of pain, it is about how a wound becomes an entrance into another world. And then the light pours from above, wrapping around me, whispering: «You are already where you’re meant to be».