Inner Voice says...

She was a girl born with the kind of heart that felt like both a battlefield and a poem. She loved deeply, far beyond what people could understand. She overthought, overgave, and overfelt. But behind all that intensity was a wild softness—a soul that never stopped believing in magic, even when life kept handing her wounds. She struggled. She cracked. She broke in places no one ever saw. But she never stopped healing. She wanted love that felt like coming home. She wanted peace, but chaos often followed her. She smiled even when she was drowning. She helped others when she herself was lost. She held people when no one held her back. She wasn’t perfect—but she was real. Raw. Honest. Unfiltered. And damn, she tried. She tried to be everything, for everyone, even when she didn’t know how to be enough for herself. In the end, she left with her story unfinished—but not unread. She became a whisper in the wind, a story in someone’s journal—a villain, a hero, a commoner. And maybe that’s enoug...