@anhnhoem_577: Sang ăn hoa quả với em đii ….. #xuhướng

Nhật Minh

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Friday 21 August 2026 02:29:35 GMT

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tiu.tam007 :

Xuhuong thía xin vía:|

2026-08-21 22:08:38

1

D :

rại rồi

2026-08-21 17:47:06

1

Thủ lĩnh wibu🌿 :

Ăn hoa quả nhưng là 2 quả đào vào con chem chép

2026-08-21 13:27:03

1

мᴇoмᴇo౨ৎ :

Nét thế a

2026-08-21 11:53:57

1

Đm bố hận :

Nhìn lượt chia sẻ của m a đau lòng quá minh ơi có cần anh buff hộ k ( ko j là miễn phí nhé )

2026-08-21 16:36:25

1

Đức Trọng :

Để anh

2026-08-21 18:12:17

1

chuthaonguyen :

vl chịu e

2026-08-21 13:27:58

1

Đm bố hận :

Bố lạy m

2026-08-21 07:14:05

1

Nguyễn Công Tuyền :

bản này hồng hơn rồi đó 😂

2026-08-21 22:27:55

1

Mai Thanh Toán :

Ko 1 cọng nông nào nuôn 😅

2026-08-21 22:20:04

0

mango :

@ntcoong 🍑

2026-08-21 16:40:01

1

Thành Anh :

@ÁnhNhỏBé

2026-08-21 23:58:34

0

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She became fluent in silence the way other women became fluent in survival. Not empty silence. Not cold silence. Ocean silence. The kind that still carries whales beneath it. Storms beneath it. Entire ecosystems of feeling beneath it. She learned how to stand at the edge of herself without falling in. Learned how to hold longing without mistaking it for direction. There was a season where she would have torn pieces from her own spirit just to keep love from leaving. But grief reshaped her. Not all at once. Slowly. Like tidewater carving cliffs. Now when she touches her own skin she can feel the ghosts of every version of herself that survived inside it. The woman who overexplained. The woman who waited. The woman who softened herself into exhaustion. The woman who confused emotional hunger for intimacy. She grieves her tenderly now. Because she understands: that woman was not weak. She was simply trying to love before she understood she deserved safety too. There is exhaustion in her still. But now it rests beside discernment. Sensuality beside solitude. Beauty beside grief. Longing beside restraint. A strange, cinematic becoming. She walks cliffs at sunrise now like someone returning to her own body. Lets the wind touch places people once mishandled. She stands barefoot near the ocean at impossible hours thinking about how survival changed her voice. How honesty changed her face. How healing was never becoming untouchable. It was becoming impossible to abandon. And somewhere beneath the woman the world can see another woman is emerging quietly. One with softer eyes. Clearer boundaries. A regulated nervous system learning peace. A woman who still loves deeply — but no longer offers her soul to people asking her to betray herself for connection. Now when she burns, she burns like candles inside cathedrals. Sacred. Contained. Intentional. Still warm. Still capable of lighting the right hands gently. April Mudrick — #writersoftiktok #poem #nervoussystemhealing #notetoself #loveme

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