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Damage didn’t arrive loudly, It learned my habits first. Sat beside me, like something patient, something that knew, I would eventually call it home. At first, it only touched, the edges of things, Sleep, Appetite, Trust, Then it entered the language. Now even beautiful things, sound broken in my head. A soft voice feels temporary, A goodbye feels rehearsed, Love arrives already carrying, the shape of its ending. Still— there’s something dangerous, about surviving too long. Pain becomes aesthetic, Scars become evidence, And a state of mind, if repeated enough, starts looking like identity. So I hold the damage carefully, like shattered glass catching light, wondering if healing means, letting go of what made me, recognizable to myself. #thought
0
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 7:02 PM UTC
Perception of being
Damage didn’t arrive loudly, It learned my habits first. Sat beside me, like something patient, something that knew, I would eventually call it home. At first, it only touched, the edges of things, Sleep, Appetite, Trust, Then it entered the language. Now even beautiful things, sound broken in my head. A soft voice feels temporary, A goodbye feels rehearsed, Love arrives already carrying, the shape of its ending. Still— there’s something dangerous, about surviving too long. Pain becomes aesthetic, Scars become evidence, And a state of mind, if repeated enough, starts looking like identity. So I hold the damage carefully, like shattered glass catching light, wondering if healing means, letting go of what made me, recognizable to myself. #thought
No_word
Written by
25/M/In Observation
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 7:02 PM UTC
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