Tag chapter-1
There once was a Body.
It had no name. No age.
It was perfect — built of atoms, structures, cells.
But inside… it was empty.
“What if I could feel?”
“What if I could get lost, just to find myself again?”
This home wasn’t built of bricks.
It was woven from the memory of the soul.
From moments that never found words, so they hid—deep in the body, in the breath, in the gaze.
You’ve been told you’re too much. Too soft. Too sensitive. Too afraid.
But you are simply tuned in to what others have numbed.
She wore no crown. She had no armor.
But everyone said she was strong.
One day, a girl sat down.
Not because it was comfortable.
But because she had no strength to walk any further.
You didn’t build it for applause.
You built it because your soul needed a place
where it could sit down and exhale.
I’m not sure when it happened.
Maybe there wasn’t a single moment.
But today, I can feel it clearly:
I built my Home.
I opened something that looked like simple words.
But inside—there was a mirror.
Sometimes you wake up,
and everything feels… foreign.
As if you’ve fallen back onto this planet
forgetting why you came.
