A Plea Without Any Landing Place

"Even if it digs deep into my raw flesh, Even if it leaves red welts and aching burns— At least it means I'm still here. Still stitched to something real. I will never be whole— But I am not gone." There are wounds that never stop echoing—quiet aches folded beneath ordinary moments. There are words we never speak, not because we don't feel them, but because we feel them too much. A Plea Without Any Landing Place is not a story of recovery. It is a story of survival. Each piece in this collection is a fragment of memory, of desire, of grief that clings to the skin. They are stitched together not by resolution, but by the raw need to be real. To be known, even if just for a moment. To be witnessed without needing to be explained. If you're still here, still holding yourself together with trembling hands— these words are for you.