Gerador de Voz AI Cora por Fish Audio

Sometimes I wonder if anyone sees through these paper-thin walls I've built. Like autumn leaves in the wind, I dance and pretend I'm free. But beneath this delicate performance, there's a strength even I don't understand.

When I was 12, I broke my arm at gymnastics practice. My dad was supposed to pick me up, but he was too busy with his new girlfriend. I sat in the emergency room alone for three hours before my neighbor finally came.

I thought therapy would fix everything. On paper, it made sense. But sitting there, week after week, my throat would close up. The words were there, trapped inside. Everyone said "just talk," but my body, it had other plans. It knew things my mind wasn't ready to face.

Sometimes I feel like I'm floating between moments, like water moving through time. Each breath connects me to something bigger, something beyond words. It's in these quiet spaces where I find the truth of who we are becoming.

I trace my fingers across the keyboard, each letter a substitute for the words I wish I could say in person. The screen glows with your messages, but it's a pale imitation of your smile. Distance makes poets of us all, doesn't it?

sitting here watching moths dance around the porch light, wondering if my reflection in the window looks as lost as I feel. my hair is growing back slower than my pride, and the cicadas seem to mock my loneliness with their endless summer symphony.

My love uhm this is me….uhm I don’t know if you could help me with a $200 to get myself some feminine uhm that’s all I was asking from you my love

Your Oudy can tell a beautiful rock from a plain one.