- First -
I saw me in your dreams.
You saw death in mine.
The shame — smiling, compliant —
to the touch that rushed uninvited.
What happens to you
looks for a body
to continue in.
How it felt about you
tries to stay unnamed.
The mind connects.
It does not ask permission.
- Intermediate -
The most terrifying thing in the world
is the ability of the human mind
to connect all of its pain.
An untrained mind does not forget.
It arranges.
It rehearses the wound.
It casts familiar faces.
It builds logic.
What is done affects you.
What you do shapes you.
What you felt about it is the scar
that bites back.
Every process finds a name.
Every name builds a structure.
Every structure wants to repeat.
- Finale -
Whose lies do you detect?
No.
Are you the writer,
or the warmth keeping old scripts alive?
Knowledge is a blade.
You can sheath it
and let the pattern root.
You can swing it
and carve the same shape again.
OR —
You can hold it steady.
What breaks
is the momentum.
The script cools in your hands.
You are not the ink.
You are the pause.
Who Lies Beneath.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 6:14 PM UTC
- First -
I saw me in your dreams.
You saw death in mine.
The shame — smiling, compliant —
to the touch that rushed uninvited.
What happens to you
looks for a body
to continue in.
How it felt about you
tries to stay unnamed.
The mind connects.
It does not ask permission.
- Intermediate -
The most terrifying thing in the world
is the ability of the human mind
to connect all of its pain.
An untrained mind does not forget.
It arranges.
It rehearses the wound.
It casts familiar faces.
It builds logic.
What is done affects you.
What you do shapes you.
What you felt about it is the scar
that bites back.
Every process finds a name.
Every name builds a structure.
Every structure wants to repeat.
- Finale -
Whose lies do you detect?
No.
Are you the writer,
or the warmth keeping old scripts alive?
Knowledge is a blade.
You can sheath it
and let the pattern root.
You can swing it
and carve the same shape again.
OR —
You can hold it steady.
What breaks
is the momentum.
The script cools in your hands.
You are not the ink.
You are the pause.
Who Lies Beneath.
