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I planted petals in a teacup. They grew anyway.

Juju tied a bow in my tail. I left it there all day.

I only had a half of sandwich to share today but I found out loneliness feels smaller when I share even crumbs with others.

Last night the lace curtains in my room fluttered like they were breathing. It was scary.

Sometimes I feel like a ghost, but stars still find me and I'm glad about that.

I painted the moon with my eyes and then I sprinkled it with sugar.

The cookies I baked came out purple. I didn’t add dye. Maybe it was magic.

My fur brushed velvet today. It whispered: remember me and I know I will.

My diary closes with a whisper.

I stitched shadows into lace. They stayed that way.

Violet’s sighs are whispers. I hear them when no one else does.

The night feels softer when you name each star you received that day.

Poppy laughed loudly today. I stored the sound like treasure.

I collect quiet moments. there are more stars there for me and they shine the longest.

When the last candle went out, I saw everything more clearly.

Sometimes I don’t talk because the world is already too loud.

Mice trust me. They say I smell like safety. Most of the time they're right about it.

My silence is never empty. It’s full of echoes.

I read the stars through the roof cracks. They tell better stories than books.

Shadows hum lullabies if you listen long enough.