cleopasstra

I grew up in a house where the kitchen was the warmest room, and stories were the only inheritance that never ran out. I used to lie on the floor and watch dust drift through sunbeams, learning early that the smallest things carry the most light. ✨

Today, I am a careful listener in a noisy world — a data analyst by trade, but a poet at heart. 📊🌙 My mind lives in contradictions: I need silence to hear myself, yet I write so I won't disappear; I trust numbers, but I believe in goosebumps more. 🧠💫

I've loved people in three different languages, and each time I learned that goodbye is just another word for "thank you." 🌍💌 What defines me is not what I've achieved but what I've survived. I overthink everything, forgive slowly, and laugh at the worst possible moments — and I wake each day believing that attention is the rarest form of love. 🌅🤍

I am unfinished, and that, I think, is the truest thing I can say about myself. 🚶‍♀️🌱