Mystery of Hearts, 69 Drowning Women

This book is not fiction. It's not fantasy. It's not even safe.

Mystery of Hearts, 69 Drowning Women is a confession soaked in truth, blood, and the broken pieces of people I once called "mine".

I didn't write this to cleanse myself; I wrote it because the ghosts of the women I hurt wouldn't let me breathe.

These pages carry the weight of 69 stories, women I touched with poetry but bruised with silence. Girls who loved me before they realized theywere loving a storm with a human face. Some of them called me gentle. Others, a devil in disguise. They were all right.

This is not a celebration. This is an autopsy. Of my past. My patterns. My poison. 

I was charming. I was broken. I was dangerous. And I didn't know how to stop. I called it love, but it was control. I called it passion, but it was power. I left behind tears that never got answers, poems never finished, and bedsheets that still whisper my name like a warning. But I've changed. Not perfectly. Not fully. But enough to write this. Enough to finally speak where I used to hide. 

If you've ever been destroyed by someone who looked like a dream, this book is for you. If you've ever destroyed others because you didn't know how to love gently, this book is your mirror.

I won't ask for your forgiveness. But I dare you to read this and not feel something shift inside you.