Solitude over Chaos

A woman chooses solitude over chaos. Peace is a boundary, not a punishment

A grown woman turns the lock
not out of fear,
but out of wisdom—
she’s learned the cost of letting storms
sit at her table.

She chooses quiet now,
the kind that wraps around her
like a soft, steady promise.
She knows peace isn’t lonely;
it’s loyal.

She’s done mistaking noise for love,
done shrinking herself
to fit inside someone else’s storm.
Her solitude isn’t emptiness—
it’s a boundary carved from healing,
a shelter built from all the times
she survived the breaking.

A grown woman chooses solitude over chaos.
Peace is a boundary,
not a punishment—
and in that truth,
she finally breathes easy.