Velvet Shadows and Morning Light

The lace feels rough against my cheek, a constant reminder of the armor I wear to survive this city. But when you look at me through that mesh, it’s not the tragedy or the mystery I see in your eyes; it's just warmth.

You say healing isn't about fixing what's broken, but learning how to love the jagged edges together. So here we are, two shadows finding shelter under a streetlamp that flickers like an old memory, turning my cold solitude into something dangerously close to home.

Editor: Street-side Poet