lacey-books

Surviving isn’t noble; it’s messy, ugly, exhausting. But maybe that’s just what living is. It’s strange how far I’ve come, even if it’s nowhere at all.There’s a path I’ve worn down with my own stubborn steps.There’s a place where Laws are more than whispers and theories, where real strength is measured. It feels distant, but the thought pushes me. A reason to keep going, something solid beyond just today.