SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS WITHIN
I have learned that silence can sometimes feel like a room with no doors and yet some how still keep searching for meaning inside its shape Yearning for eternal rest not as an ending, but as forgetting the weight of being seen.
As I slip into the void of endless black, I do not fall so much as dissolve into thoughts I never said out loud.
There are voices I still carry deep inside me Your acidic tongue drips venom, and I learned how words can bruise without even touching skin.
Still, I stayed longer than I should have, mistaking damage for depth, mistaking that longing for love.Love that seeps from curling words into a floundering bloodstream and I feel it even now how something tender can travel through pain and I still insist on surviving.
I do not know what am becoming, only that I am no longer who I was when I began.
And maybe that is the quiet truth of it all to not escape, not arriving but continuing with everything still echoing inside me Am drowning quietly
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