The Altar of Beautiful Lies
I stand here in this white shroud, looking like a saint who’
Whispers of Silver Grass and Warmth
I left my phone in the car, letting the city’s relentless
The Silicon Pulse of a Warm Embrace
I step through the sliding door, my skin still humming with the
The Rhythm of Us: Projected Hearts
I used to think strength was a solo sport—the early morning
Where the Wind Forgets to Rush
I used to believe that love was a chase—a series of
The Scent of Dried Petals and Unspoken Promises
I have always believed that time does not pass; it merely accumulates,
The Bridge Where Silence Sings Your Name
I have carried the city in my marrow for too long—its
The Apple at Midnight's Zenith
I hold this candy apple like a talisman, the sugar shell reflecting
The Weight of Quiet Afternoons
I’ve always found solace in things that hold their breath—the
A Morning Written in Silk and Steam
The city outside is a frantic machine, but here on this balcony,
Saffron Breath in a Neon City
Glass towers. The city hums a cold, electric blue.
I carry the
Shattered Sunlight and the Sweetness of Surrender
I am folding myself into the wood of this bench, trying to
