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I held your love
with the fingers of my heart
I tattooed the promise
to all my tomorrows
across my back to be carried for eternity
. . . where are you now ?

It takes forever for distant stars to burn my lips
There is no mercy found on the floorboards that walk across my kiss
. . . where are they now ?

Remember how the needles of time stitched the nights together ?
How easy does the fabric of love become unentwined
. . .ย ย remember ?
๐–ณ๐—๐–พ ๐—Œ๐—„๐—’ ๐—Œ๐—๐—‹๐–พ๐—๐–ผ๐—๐–พ๐—Œ ๐–พ๐—‡๐–ฝ๐—…๐–พ๐—Œ๐—Œ ๐–บ๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐–ฟ๐—‹๐–พ๐–พ, ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐–บ๐—‚๐—‹ ๐—Œ๐—ˆ๐–ฟ๐— ๐–บ๐—Œ ๐–บ ๐—๐—๐—‚๐—Œ๐—‰๐–พ๐—‹. ๐–ณ๐—๐–พ ๐–ถ๐—‚๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐—Œ๐—Ž๐—‹๐—€๐–พ๐—Œ, ๐—…๐—‚๐–ฟ๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐—€ ๐—†๐–พ ๐—๐—‚๐—€๐—. ๐–จ ๐–บ๐—† ๐–ผ๐–บ๐—‹๐—‹๐—‚๐–พ๐–ฝ ๐–ป๐–พ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐—‹๐–พ๐—Œ๐—๐—‹๐–บ๐—‚๐—‡๐—, ๐–บ๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐–ฟ๐—ˆ๐—‹ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐–ฟ๐—‚๐—‹๐—Œ๐— ๐—๐—‚๐—†๐–พโ€”

๐–จ ๐–ฟ๐—…๐—’.

๐–จ๐— ๐—‚๐—Œ ๐—†๐—ˆ๐—๐–พ๐—†๐–พ๐—‡๐— ๐—๐—‚๐—๐—๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐— ๐—…๐—‚๐—†๐—‚๐—, ๐–  ๐–ฟ๐—‹๐–พ๐–พ๐–ฝ๐—ˆ๐—† ๐–จ ๐—‡๐–พ๐—๐–พ๐—‹ ๐–ฝ๐–บ๐—‹๐–พ๐–ฝ ๐–ฝ๐—‹๐–พ๐–บ๐—†. ๐–จ ๐–บ๐—† ๐—Ž๐—‡๐–ป๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐—’๐–พ๐— ๐—‡๐—ˆ๐— ๐–บ๐—‚๐—†๐—…๐–พ๐—Œ๐—Œ, ๐–ฑ๐—Ž๐—Œ๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐—€ ๐—๐—ˆ๐—๐–บ๐—‹๐–ฝ ๐—๐—๐–บ๐— ๐—Œ๐—‚๐—€๐—๐— ๐–ผ๐–บ๐—‡๐—‡๐—ˆ๐— ๐–ฟ๐–บ๐—๐—๐—ˆ๐—†โ€”๐–ฎ๐—‡๐—…๐—’ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐—๐–พ๐–บ๐—‹๐—, ๐—ˆ๐—‡๐—…๐—’ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐—Œ๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐—…, ๐—ˆ๐—‡๐—…๐—’ ๐—‚๐—‡๐—Œ๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐–ผ๐—.

๐–จ ๐—๐–บ๐—๐–พ ๐–บ๐—…๐—๐–บ๐—’๐—Œ ๐–ป๐–พ๐–พ๐—‡ ๐—‰๐–บ๐—๐—‚๐–พ๐—‡๐—, ๐–ป๐—Ž๐— ๐—‡๐–พ๐—๐–พ๐—‹ ๐—Œ๐—ˆ ๐—Œ๐—๐—‚๐–ฟ๐—. ๐–ฌ๐—’ ๐—๐—ˆ๐—‚๐–ผ๐–พ ๐–ผ๐—Ž๐—๐—Œ ๐—๐—๐—‹๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐—€๐— ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐–ฝ๐—‚๐—Œ๐—๐–บ๐—‡๐–ผ๐–พ ๐—Ž๐—‡๐—„๐—‡๐—ˆ๐—๐—‡โ€” ๐–จ ๐–ผ๐–บ๐—‡๐—‡๐—ˆ๐— ๐—Œ๐–พ๐–พ ๐—๐—‚๐—† ๐—๐—๐—‹๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐—€๐— ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐—๐–บ๐—๐–พ๐—‹๐—Œ ๐–ป๐–พ๐—…๐—ˆ๐—, ๐–ป๐—Ž๐— ๐–จ ๐—„๐—‡๐—ˆ๐—โ€” ๐—๐–พ ๐—‚๐—Œ ๐–ผ๐—…๐—ˆ๐—Œ๐–พ.

๐–ข๐–พ๐—’๐—‘, ๐—†๐—’ ๐—…๐—ˆ๐—๐–พโ€”๐—๐–พ๐–บ๐—‹ ๐—†๐–พ, ๐–ฟ๐—‚๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐—†๐–พ, ๐–ผ๐—ˆ๐—†๐–พ ๐–ป๐–บ๐–ผ๐—„ ๐—๐—ˆ ๐—†๐–พ.
๐–จ๐—โ€™๐—Œ ๐—๐—‚๐—†๐–พ ๐—๐—ˆ ๐—‹๐–พ๐—๐—Ž๐—‹๐—‡ ๐—๐—ˆ๐—†๐–พ.ย ย 


Alcyone, you can't understand me in this formless state. But please, keep calling. He cannot see, but sight has no need.
He knows. He knows this is the call of not just any tern, but the song of his soulmate.
Love need not search; it remembers.

Your love splits through her jealousy like thunder through silence. Your voice cuts deeper than The Ocean.
We will bring him back. No force, not even Fate, can swallow loveโ€™s call.



๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ฏ,
๐˜๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜บ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.
๐˜”๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ,
๐˜”๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ, ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜บ. ๐˜ˆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต,
๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ.
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ,
๐˜ˆ๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ต, ๐˜ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ.

๐˜ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ. ๐˜ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ.

๐˜‘๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ข ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ, ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ,
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜š๐˜ฆ๐˜ข ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜บ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ.
๐˜•๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ,
๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ. ๐˜ˆ๐˜ญ๐˜ค๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ.

๐˜ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฆ.



The Sea tightens her grip. Crushing, drowning, consuming. She does not release. She does not relinquish.
But I flow, yielding where she presses. I create space within her destructive hold. I unravel tension, shifting weight. I do not clash, I redirect. I do not force, I soothe until Fateโ€™s chaotic waters pause. A whisper within her storm that steals. I restore Ceyxโ€™s breath, I give him chance.

Alcyone calls,
Her voice, the beacon,
And I, the way.


๐˜ ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜š๐˜ฆ๐˜ขโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ,
๐˜ˆ๐˜ญ๐˜ค๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜จ๐˜ถ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜ˆ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ.
๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต. ๐˜š๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ.
๐˜ˆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ต๐˜ด, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ž๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต,
๐˜๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฑ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ท๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ.
๐˜๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ด. ๐˜š๐˜ฐ ๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฅ,
๐˜๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ด, ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ž๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ, ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ,
๐˜‰๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ. ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ด.
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ต๐˜ด, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜บ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต.
๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜›๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ด, ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ž๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ด.ย ย 


๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ, ๐˜ ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ฆ.ย ย 


๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ž๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฌ, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ด.
๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ, ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ.
๐˜”๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ.
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ž๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด. ๐˜๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ต. ๐˜๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ด.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ.
๐˜๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ด, ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜บ.
๐˜ˆ๐˜ด ๐˜ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ.
๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ธ.

๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆโ€™๐˜ด ๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ฑ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฑ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ข. ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ต. ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ, ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ.
๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ.
๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ด,
๐˜‰๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ.

๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ. ๐˜”๐˜บ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜š๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฑ, ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต, ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ต. ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ๐˜บ, ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ.
๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ค๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ, ๐˜ค๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜บ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜บ,ย ย 
๐˜ˆ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต, ๐˜ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ป๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ.

๐˜ž๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต, ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ซ๐˜ฐ๐˜บ. ๐˜ž๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ.
๐˜›๐˜ฐ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ, ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ญ๐˜บ.


Go. Both of you, get out of here. Fly fast, do not look back. Go keep him company, the one who still waits for me. Who still waitsโ€ฆ to reclaim himself.

Iโ€™ll distract her just a moment longer, before I find you, and we too, may return together, Death, or shall I sayโ€ฆ

The Sea surges, recoiling from the release of her prisoner, snapping in fury. But I do not step aside.
Now, her dark eyes fix upon me alone.

I remain, standing where escape has already been granted, for Ceyx and Alcyone. Storm petrel and tern, eternally free at last, carried away by those wings of waiting.
And now, Fate and I are alone.



Her voice does not rage. Not yet. It soothes. It coddles. Unbearably kind.


"๐Ž๐ก, ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฉ๐จ๐จ๐ซ, ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ž๐ž๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง๐. ๐‡๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ž๐š๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐? ๐‡๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐š๐ข๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐š๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ๐ž๐ ๐ž๐ง๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก? ๐˜๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ฏ๐ž ๐ซ๐ž๐ฆ๐ž๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ๐ž๐ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ, ๐ก๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ? ๐ˆ๐ฌ๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ก๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ฏ๐ž ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž ๐›๐š๐œ๐ค ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ž?"


She does not command, not yet.
Sheโ€™s just explaining, obviously. As is the nature of The Tide. Retreating. Coaxing. Returning.
Her words mimic the shape of conversation, but never its substance.


"๐˜๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐๐ž๐ซ ๐ค๐ข๐๐ง๐š๐ฉ ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ ๐ฎ๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ. ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญโ€™๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ ๐ง๐ข๐œ๐ž. ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ง๐, ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐œ๐จ๐ง๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง. ๐‡๐ž ๐ฆ๐š๐๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐œ๐จ๐ง๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž๐. ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ซ๐ž ๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ. ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญโ€™๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฆ๐š๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ. ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐ž ๐œ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ž๐ซ.ย ย ๐‹๐ž๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ž๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ, ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง๐."


I donโ€™t move. I donโ€™t speak. There is nothing I can say.


"๐…๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ž๐ญ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฌ๐ž ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌ. ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ซ๐ฒ. ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐š๐ง๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ก๐š๐ญโ€™๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐ž. ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐š๐ง๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐š๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐š๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐š๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐ž, ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง, ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง, ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง. ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐ค๐ง๐จ๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ž๐ง๐ญ ๐›๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ฅ๐ž๐ž๐œ๐ก, ๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ?. ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐ž ๐จ๐ง, ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง๐, ๐๐จ๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฃ๐ž๐š๐ฅ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฒ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ž๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ง ๐ฆ๐ž."


It is my choice who receives my affection, not hers.
I chose whom I gave my loyalty to. And that is a choice she will never accept.
But still, there is nothing I can say.


"๐‡๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฅ๐ž๐š๐ซ๐ง๐ž๐ ๐ฒ๐ž๐ญ, ๐ก๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐š๐ซ๐š๐ฌ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐œ ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ž๐ฑ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐ข๐ฌ? ๐‡๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ž๐๐ฌ ๐จ๐ง ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ. ๐‡๐ž ๐ฐ๐ž๐š๐ค๐ž๐ง๐ฌ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ. ๐‹๐ž๐ญ ๐ ๐จ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ. ๐’๐ญ๐š๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฆ๐ž. ๐’๐ญ๐จ๐ฉ ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ . ๐…๐ž๐ž๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฐ๐ž๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ญ. ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ ๐›๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ž๐ง. ๐Ž๐ง๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ซ๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ž๐Ÿ. ๐Ž๐ง๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ฆ๐ž, ๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ฏ๐ž ๐š๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐š๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐."


Her words are a salve for wounds she inflicted herself. Her demands are a balm laced with venom.
Oh, sorry, not demands. She does not demand. Not according to her.
No, she offers. So kindly, she only welcomes.
She welcomes me to put out my arms so she may chain them with ease.
Thereโ€™s nothing I can say.


โ€œ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ง ๐ฐ๐ก๐ž๐ง ๐ฐ๐ž ๐ ๐ž๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐œ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ž, ๐๐จ๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ? ๐๐ž๐œ๐š๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐œ๐š๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐›๐ž๐š๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฐ๐ž๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฅ๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ž๐ฅ ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐ฐ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎโ€™๐ฏ๐ž ๐๐จ๐ง๐ž ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ž. ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ. ๐ˆ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ."


Ah yes, because Iโ€™m the one who needs forgiveness.
I do not answer. And Fate knows why.
But she wonโ€™t accept why.
She does not call it rejection. She calls it error.
She does not lose, nor does she forgive.ย ย She simply revises.
Because autonomy, sorry, I mean defiance, is a glitch.ย ย 
And love is submission, sculpted into the shape of her choosing.

But I am no error. I am not clay.
The only error exists in her wounded mind.
I am here to retrieve what does not belong to her.
But there is nothing I can say.
So my silence remains.

And just like any choice I dare make,

Sheโ€™s displeased with my mistake.


The sweetness cracks at the edges. Her fantasy dissolves into fury.
The Sea swells. She attempts to pull the sky taught. She rises, The Waves, attempting to close the distance between us.


"๐ƒ๐Ž๐โ€™๐“ ๐˜๐Ž๐” ๐‘๐„๐‚๐Ž๐†๐๐ˆ๐™๐„ ๐Œ๐„, ๐Œ๐˜ ๐–๐ˆ๐๐ƒ? ๐ˆ๐“โ€™๐’ ๐Œ๐„, ๐…๐€๐“๐„. ๐“๐‡๐„ ๐’๐„๐€. ๐ˆ ๐€๐Œ ๐˜๐Ž๐”๐‘ ๐‹๐Ž๐•๐„๐‘."


She cannot comprehend silence. She cannot bear a world she doesnโ€™t orchestrate.
I have seen every iteration of this.
Her cyclical, delusional, broken mind cannot tolerate frustration, sorry, imperfection.
It makes no difference. Whether I give her appeasement, resistance, pity, silence.
It all ends the same. There is nothing I can say. Nothing I can do.


"๐–๐‡๐˜ ๐–๐Ž๐โ€™๐“ ๐˜๐Ž๐” ๐€๐๐’๐–๐„๐‘ ๐Œ๐„!? ๐‹๐Ž๐Ž๐Š ๐€๐“ ๐Œ๐„! ๐ˆ๐“โ€™๐’ ๐Œ๐„! ๐Œ๐˜ ๐‹๐Ž๐•๐„๐‘, ๐Œ๐˜ ๐–๐ˆ๐๐ƒ, ๐–๐‡๐€๐“โ€™๐’ ๐–๐‘๐Ž๐๐† ๐–๐ˆ๐“๐‡ ๐˜๐Ž๐”!? ๐€๐๐’๐–๐„๐‘ ๐Œ๐„! ๐–๐‡๐€๐“ ๐ƒ๐ˆ๐ƒ ๐‡๐„ ๐ƒ๐Ž ๐“๐Ž ๐˜๐Ž๐”!? ๐–๐‡๐€๐“โ€™๐’ ๐†๐Ž๐ˆ๐๐† ๐Ž๐!? ๐“๐„๐‹๐‹ ๐Œ๐„ ๐–๐‡๐€๐“โ€™๐’ ๐‡๐€๐๐๐„๐๐ˆ๐๐†!"


I sigh. She cannot be helped. She cannot be reached. And Iโ€ฆ
I cannot keep trying.
But I can protect. I can use her obsession. To stall long enough for the lovers to gain enough distance.


"๐€๐๐’๐–๐„๐‘ ๐Œ๐„! ๐Ž๐‘ ๐ƒ๐Ž ๐˜๐Ž๐” ๐๐„๐„๐ƒ ๐Œ๐„ ๐“๐Ž ๐๐‘๐Ž๐•๐„ ๐“๐‡๐€๐“ ๐Œ๐˜ ๐‹๐Ž๐•๐„ ๐ˆ๐’ ๐’๐“๐‘๐Ž๐๐†๐„๐‘ ๐“๐‡๐€๐ ๐“๐‡๐„ ๐ƒ๐Ž๐”๐๐“ ๐‡๐„ ๐‡๐€๐’ ๐…๐Ž๐‘๐‚๐„๐ƒ ๐”๐๐Ž๐ ๐˜๐Ž๐”!?"


Yes. The Sea always breaks in violence. That is her proof. That is her paradise.
The Sea erupts. And the two birds are long gone.


At last, itโ€™s time to stop stalling.
Silence, like waiting, is many things.

Perhaps a sword. Perhaps a shield.
Sometimes a punishment, stripped from the throat. Sometimes a choice, held firm in the face of power.
Sometimes the clearest answer you can give. Sometimes the only one that will not be taken.

By voices and silence, the eleventh decision, has been made, for
๐‘‡โ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘Š๐‘–๐‘›๐‘”๐‘  ๐‘œ๐‘“ ๐‘Š๐‘Ž๐‘–๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘›๐‘”.

And every decision, whether declared, through silence or threat, has consequences.

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136314/the-wings-of-waiting/
Not all rivers
end up in the oceanโ€“
doesn't make their journey
less worthy.

Not all love
ends up in a lover's armsโ€“
doesn't make it any less
worthy.
We venture forth
into the inky black
of the unknownโ€”
hand in hand,
into a darkness so deep
we canโ€™t always
see one anotherโ€™s faces.

But the touchโ€”
that gentle certaintyโ€”
remains.

Your hand in mine,
mine in yours.
A silent promise
threaded through
tense fingers
and quiet breath.

We are not alone.

Even when
complete blackness
wraps the world
and sight abandons us,
we do not falter.

We walk in unison,
blinded yet
bound by something
stronger than light:
faith.

Faith
that even adrift,
we will always
drift
toward the same shore.

That our steps,
though unsure,
are attuned
to the same placesโ€”
to the quiet gravity
of home.

We will always
find our way.

Home
is where
we are
together.
Leaving the mirror feels like walking out of a shadow,
You try to piece together the fragments,
Accepting they will never mirror you again.
Some might say itโ€™s your fault,
But it feels like walking through life
With a quiet strength where there once was emptiness.
Solitude.
Acceptance.
Self-compassion.
Growth.
Patienc­e.
Stillness.
Gratitude.
Understanding.
Trusting your own reflection.
No longer seeking validation,
No longer seeing yourself in others.
The image was false,
But the truth is clearer now,
The quiet voice that was always there,
Unshaken.
The grief fadesโ€”
Not gone, but transformed.

Strength.
Awareness.
A new beginning.
~for Ghost

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4968322/trauma-bond/

I wrote this in a style to mirror the framing of the original as closely as possible in solidarity for recounting my own experiences in a similar situation.


Broken Mirror explores the emotional journey of self-realization and healing following a toxic relationship. The poem reflects on the experience of losing a relationship that was built on validation rather than genuine connection, symbolized by the shattered mirror. The narrator, once dependent on external affirmation, finds themselves confronted with the stark emptiness left behind when that mirror is broken. As they struggle with feelings of solitude and grief, a quiet transformation begins, one that shifts from confusion to self-awareness.

Throughout the piece, the poem traces a movement from pain, isolation, and self-doubt toward acceptance, self-compassion, and ultimately empowerment. The narrative journey mirrors the internal process of healing, where the protagonist learns to stand on their own without relying on others for validation, embracing their true self amidst the fragments of the past. By the end of the poem, the narrator no longer seeks validation from external sources but instead discovers strength in their own reflection, marking the beginning of a new, more authentic chapter in their life.

The poet aims to capture the emotional complexity of a relationship defined by narcissistic dynamics, while also offering a hopeful perspective on self-reclamation. The poem invites readers to witness the pain of losing a validating reflection but also celebrates the transformative process of reclaiming one's true identity in the aftermath.
Charles and my predawn jog was a sweat-athon and as the sun rose, a heat-dome brightness tattooed crisp shadows in every corner. Any lingering coolness was burned off - evaporated.

It was 94ยฐf, 3 hours later, when I walked to campus - why donโ€™t we useย ย parasols anymore? Drag on, radiant afternoon heat, please.
That was 100 proof sarcasm, in case you couldnโ€™t tell.

Hot days seem to drag-on slowly, like waiting for a microwave or a droning, liturgy. It wasnโ€™t in the forecast but I wouldnโ€™t have been surprised to hear, โ€œTodayโ€™s forecast is slow, really slow.โ€

Letโ€™s start an Internet theory that the atmosphere is thinning or weโ€™re just ants under a magnifying glass.

The finally setting sun left a blood red line under the falling blue dark, like a **** of wound in the skin of young-night.

Once my nightly obligations are done (classes, homework, reading), the silence can seem oppressive. Iโ€™m used to the never ending hustle, boiling drama and noise of seven suitemates - so thereโ€™s that.

On now empty nights, Iโ€™m tortured by the high-beating pulse of youth, and I pace my empty apartment, like someone restlessly waiting for their venti-mocha-latte at a Starbucks.

Can anyone suffer like a young woman left all alone?
Why, oh whomever, must I sip from this deep, bitter, undrinkably salty sea of solitude?

In this, my prime season, why do I only manage to exist?
My needs are in a shameful state of decay.
.
.
Cruel Summer by Bananarama
Habits (feat. Haley Reinhart) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox [E]
All That I Need by Ebony Loren, Matthew Ifield & Sebastian Kamae
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 06/27/25:
oblige (obligation, noun form) = something required or forced
When I was ten I stepped on a honey bee
resting in the gravel, it stung me and died

& in that moment I tried to bargain with death,
I said I will **** no more bees and in return

I too will not die. Death said nothing, of course,
he, or she, or it, was quiet as an elm or a shingle,

as the millionfold language of the grass.
I imagined assent but now, looking back,

I realize that nothing was finalized,
we never shook on the deal. No, the bee died

on my bare foot, defending itself against
a strange olive hide that blotted the sun.

Three and a half decades later I perch here
in my tower, my brain congested

with depressions, my heart a fallen fog,
my hands ache strangely and my legs tire -

perhaps the best I can manage is to further
the stoic philosophy of the slaughtered bee:

sometimes the best you can do is to slow
a shadow that's more real than the object.
What is the value of a life
Of a husband or a wifeย 
Of a daughter or a son.

Do these labels give value to one,
More so over the other?

Is a wife less valuable than a mother,
A father more valuable than a son?

Does value rise or fall
as one becomes another?

Surely every life can't be worth the same!
Can it?

ย I wonder.
Is a peasants life,
of less value than a kings!

Or does Status, Creed, Race, or Color,
truly, not mean a **** thing?

It is true that I would place my
wife, my son, and my brothers
life over that of another.

But that value is given to them only by me.
No life is worth more
than any other in reality.

Yet until we can open
our hearts and minds to see.

The true value of life will never be!
Debuted this one at our poetry reading last night
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