writing
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There you are—standing in silence, the blank look on your face betraying the storm inside. You stare through me as if I cannot hear the words rattling in your skull. In your eyes, I have seen rage, pain, struggle, fleeting sparks of love, glimmers of compassion—but above all, confusion. You are the decision without thought,…
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We stand at the confessional before a stranger who will never become our friend, baring sins that should never have been spoken into air. Some truths were meant to rot in silence, some names never to pass across the lips of certain company. Letters strung together summon ghosts, dragging us back into a moment in…
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They say words mean something or nothing at all. In the old wing of the mind, where curtains never quite let daylight in, those words gather like dust and like prayer. They could be true, false, or the careful lies someone tells themselves to make a wound less loud. In that place she lived—always moving,…
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She moved away from everything that was, everything that could have been, and everything that still tried to cling. Always moving, never lingering. The past threw its reminders at her feet, but none of them were worth gathering. A slate wiped clean was all that mattered, for time was not to be wasted—it was to…
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Comfort is not always found in the warmth of the sun. Sometimes it waits in the dark spaces between this and that, in the hushed corridors of the in-between. These are places where shadows roam freely, where secrets linger behind half-shuttered eyes, and where the cobwebs in forgotten corners glisten like veils. The dark is…
