She feels it before she wakes, the quiet weight in her bones,

The whisper of something shifting beneath her skin.

The world presses closer, its breath warm against her neck.

She stirs, stretching her limbs like roots reaching for water,

only to find the ground unsteady beneath her.

Some days, she is the river, fluid, giving,

Overflowing with tenderness.

She moves through the morning like a lullaby,

Her fingers gentle as they smooth a child’s hair, tuck a stray thread into place.

She hums as she pours tea, as she fills empty spaces with warmth,

As she carries love in the curve of her hands.

She is a nurturer, a quiet force, the pulse of life itself.

Other days, she is fire, restless, consuming.

Heat coils inside her, untamed and impatient,

Licking at the edges of her control.

Words taste sharper on her tongue,

glances hold daggers, where there were once petals.

She loves fiercely, with a heart too big for her chest, and she resents with equal intensity.

A single thought can unravel her calm,

A shift in the air can ignite her wrath.

Then, there are the days when she is the wind, adrift, weightless,

Slipping between moments like mist. She laughs and feels nothing.

She cries and feels everything.

The world moves around her, but she stands still,

Lost in the spaces between now and then,

between who she is and who she cannot seem to grasp.

And yet, she endures. She always does.

Even as her body clenches in protest, even as the waves crash and fire burns low,

Even as the winds threaten to scatter her into a thousand pieces, she remains.

She is woman, untamed and unbroken.

She is every storm, every season, every whisper of life itself.

And when she rises,

knowing her body has once again surrendered to the rhythm carved into her very existence,

she smiles. Because she knows this her nature.

This is her cycle.

She bleeds.

She feels.

She lives.

A note to you, My Queen

There is power in the rhythm of your being, in the way you shift between softness and fire, between presence and absence, between giving and needing.

You're not too much, you're not broken, you're simply alive, wholly, deeply and beautifully. Honour your cycles, embrace your seasons, let yourself be.

And remember, endurance is not just survival, it is proof of your strength.