Tag: writing
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I was poured into a countryLike rain into old stone groundLearning the taste of the soilLearning what settles downThey said this is how we move hereThis is the shape of the streamSo I swallowed the weather quietlyAnd carried it inside…
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I learned it watching towers of glassBow their heads like they don’t reflect backEvery victory hums in the airLike it wants to be rememberedLike it wants to be paid for later Win too loud, the room goes stillClimb too fast,…
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I never built the altarI just showed you how to prayGold is only furnitureTill belief gives it a name Applause falls through your fingersHunger learns how to stayI’ve trusted empty hands beforeMore than thanks that fade away You remember the…
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I keep my answers folded tight,like pocket-knives asleep at night.Sharp enough to change a life,hidden just to shine. They watch the unopened letter of me,sealed with a quiet I’ve learned to keep.Expectation grows like a tidepulling hearts to the shore…
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The world stands on its peak,like a coin that refuses to fall.Every street feels thin beneath me,every handshake hides a thorn in the soft.They say one wiser heart todaymust carry the weight of seven sagesyet mine keeps slipping through the…
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The world holds its breath for the ones who walk gently,weavers of warm mornings, fixers of torn hours.Love doesn’t rise on its own, someone warms the bowl,someone kneads the moment till the daylight flowers. Admiration is a lantern, but goodwill…
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Hush now, traveler, the doorway widens,a hollow carved by heavier hands.Great voices linger inside its ribcage,their echoes pacing like caged demands.A warning hangs in the dust-lit archway:enter only if you’re willing to grow taller than the ghosts. Beware the gap…where…
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Chapter 10: Worry Not Apricot twisted beneath her blankets. Midnight lay quiet, but whispers moved through the plaster, soft and damp, running along the walls in time with the red blink of her alarm. Something else breathed in the room.…
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Chapter 9: Trial By Fire Apricot pushed through the automatic doors and the store’s noise shut off behind her. The parking lot lay mostly empty, a few cars scattered among oil puddles holding the neon from across the street. Cold…
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Chapter 8: Midnight Blues A single streetlamp hung overhead, its filament spitting weak yellow light. Beneath it, something shuddered. It was almost a man, but the form sagged and quivered as though struggling to remember the shape it should hold.…
