Welcome home❄️🐇
Hey beautiful souls, 🌸
I’m so glad you found this little world of mine. If you’re here, it’s not by chance — it’s because this place was made for you✨. Even if no one notices your pain, even if your efforts go unseen, I see you. And I’m sending you a tight hug and the loudest applause 👏 — because you’re still fighting, and that makes you a warrior. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I promise this: I’ll always try to write for you. To give a voice to your feelings through my poetry. And if you explore this little world of mine, I hope you’ll feel heard, held, and healed. 🫂✨I hope you’ll stay a while — maybe even build a home here. Even when the world turns silent, I’m just one message away📩.You can always write to me. 🫶I started writing because I had no one.
My feelings were “too much” for everyone around me. Every time I tried to speak, it ended in pain, it ended in wasting my time and energy because they’ll never realize the storm inside me. At the end family will judge me, friends will do competition with me and try to pull me down, at the end they’ll make fun of me— so I stopped talking. But when I shut my mouth, my book opened. The ink in my pen waited eagerly to dance across the page.
I used to think no one loved me — until I wrote this line in my bio:
✨ “My paper loves me so much, but I’m such a cruel lover that I pour the acid of my mind onto it… and instead of burning, it started to shine.” 🌟📝
That’s the truth. Even if I’m filled with trauma, pain, and heaviness — the page still accepts me. The paper craves my chaos and transforms it into something beautiful. We all crave that, don’t we?💭 But instead of receiving someone’s healing acid, we’re often met with their thorns. That tear us apart . And so, torn souls like us begin to write — not to impress, but to survive. We stop begging to be understood. Instead, we create. Writing heals us.
Reading reminds us we’re not alone. If you’ve made it this far — welcome. You’re part of my little world now. 🫶🌸
Even if the story meant for you hasn’t arrived yet, I promise it’s coming.
I will write for:
🕊️ The girl hiding oceans behind her smile.
🕊️ The boy who never feels enough.
🕊️ The reader who’s tired of shallow stories — and longs for something real.
I’ll write about heartbreak and healing, thrillers and mysteries, sad endings and soulmates. Just stay a while. We’ll build this world together.
You can call me Snow or Snow Rabbit — that’s the name of my book, and maybe, my soul🐇❄️.I’m a writer, a reader, a dreamer, a listener, and a survivor of storms no one saw. I love soft music 🎧, the smell of old books 📖, and the sound of rain at 2 AM 🌧️. I think I’m the reflection of many hearts I’ve never met — but hope to, here in this world. We’ll carve each other’s stories in ink and eternity. BloomBliss isn’t perfect. But it’s full of truth — poetry, pain, healing, nostalgia, love, and silent prayers. It’s like me: full of things, yet still empty without you. Only your presence makes it complete. I made this to remind you:
You are not alone.
Someone out here gets it.
This space is for you if:
🌱 You feel deeply.
🌱 You carry invisible wounds.
🌱 You still believe in love, or even just want to.
Thank you for being here. This little girl never imagined her words would be read. But here you are. Thank you for listening. You mean the world to me. If everyone else walks away, I won’t. I’m just a message away. Join our little world. Make this your safe place.
You’ll find a way to subscribe below.
Love you, always
𓆩♡𓆪 ୭ 🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀