Darkness whispers in silent screams,

Every smile masks fractured dreams.

Past and present blur in rain,

Restless nights soaked in pain.

Echoes of laughter feel far,

Shards of joy lost to a star.

Sinking deeper, breath is thin,

I wear a calm, but break within.

One more day, a battle won—

Not for glory, but to carry on.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Drowning in thoughts I cannot flee,

Every breath feels like a plea.

Pain in silence, hidden well,

Raging storms I cannot tell.

Emotions numb, yet still they burn,

Smiles are masks at every turn.

Sinking low where light is rare,

I wish someone would truly care.

Over and over, I try to survive,

Not just exist, but feel alive.

Start with something casual:
“I miss you” is a good opener,
but don’t forget the twist—
throw in a parenthetical like
“(but not enough to beg)”
just to keep him guessing.

Follow up with a double text,
something vaguely existential.
Maybe:
“Do you ever think about
the weight of your own cowardice?”
And when he doesn’t respond,
add:
“Haha jk, how’s your sciatica?”

Text three should be a song lyric—
not one he knows,
but something obscure and devastating,
like:
“And the skeletons in both our closets
plotted hard to **** this up.”
Don’t explain it.
Let him Google it at 2 a.m.
and spiral in silence.

For text four,
go for the jugular:
“Do you think you’ll ever stop
mistaking fear for wisdom?”
Pause.
Then send:
“Nvm, that was mean.
What’s your comfort show again?
Mine’s Parks and Rec.”

By text five, he’ll start to crack.
He might reply with something cautious,
like:
“Are you okay?”
This is your chance.
Answer with:
“Define okay.”
Then immediately change the subject—
“Wait, what’s your zodiac rising?”

Text six is where you plant the seed of doubt:
“Sometimes I think we’d have worked out
if I didn’t know you so well.”
Wait exactly four minutes,
then follow up with:
“Or maybe if you knew yourself better.”

For text seven, go full cryptic:
“You remind me of that one painting—
you know, the one they had to repaint
because it was falling apart.”
Let him sit with that one.

By text eight,
he’ll either call or give up.
If he calls, ignore it.
If he doesn’t,
send:
“Anyway, good talk.
Hope life’s treating you
as kindly as you deserve.
Interpret that how you will.”

Text nine is optional,
but it’s my favorite:
“Do you even notice the silence
when it’s not yours?”

Text ten is the finale.
Simple, clean, devastating:
“I hope you finally stop running,
and when you do,
I hope it’s too late
for anyone to catch you.”

Life’s a flight in the Night -
once whence,
then thence
- a perpetual fight…

Frigid is the Night.
Blowing winds bellow,
Birds they bring down like an arrow.
Though their fate be full of contempt,
flight the Birds still attempt.
Frightening, the sight
Frigid, the Night

One winter day,
a Fog of Light was blown so high, it lit up the Sky.
Dusk pierced by Dawn,
it was the End of All,
the Avians‘ downfall.
Frightening, the Night
Frigid, this sight

Though infinite in power, the fog made Them cower.
Into the Ground they dove,
yet for the Sky still strove,
Their stars now but
a dream within
a dream
.

Though,
one summer day,
Night broke through the dark
- and revealed the stars high above.

…in their seat shrouded in Night, They shine ever bright.

He flipped the pages
one after another
his curious fingers
tracing each syllable
of her untold story,
the deeper he dived
in her mystic maze
his fingers were smudged
with ink and her tears
the words were stripped
her soul was bare
and he fell in love
with her cryptic layers