In there—
Where the silence feels alive,
Breathing against your chest,
Pressing heavy and unforgiving.
Brave one.
That’s what they’d call you, isn’t it?
But what does bravery mean
When you’re holding onto threads so frayed
They cut into your skin?
Hold on.
That’s you—
The one who keeps walking
When the road disappears,
The one who watches the stars
But never feels their warmth.
Welcome—
To what, though?
To the same quiet ache
That greets you every morning,
That sits at the foot of your bed,
Watching as you tie yourself together
With frayed ribbons and unspoken promises.
Only always.
That’s how it feels, doesn’t it?
Like you’re falling,
Always falling through.
Shapeless—
Like the questions you can’t stop asking.
Curtain—
Drawn tightly around the truths
You’re too tired to face.
Lie low.
Sink into the space where your thoughts
Are louder than the world outside.
(It’s difficult.)
Hey Blue One,
Do you remember what it felt like—
To hold something real?
To believe, even for a moment,
That the ground beneath your feet
Wouldn’t betray you?
Hey Blue One,
Do you see the mirror?
The way it warps your reflection,
Turning it into a story you barely recognize?
This is where it began, isn’t it?
This fracture,
This aching emptiness.
Hey Blue One,
You’ve built a garden here,
Haven’t you?
A fragile little world
In the shadow of everything that’s been lost.
But even now,
The petals fall too soon,
And the roots dig too deep,
Searching for something they’ll never find.
Still, it fits—
This crooked framework of your life.
It leans,
It sways,
But it hasn’t fallen yet.
There’s a kind of beauty in that,
Isn’t there?
A quiet kind of resilience.
I hear it—
In the way the world whispers to you,
Soft and persistent:
“Take the sunlight.
Serve the morning.”
And you wonder,
How can you serve a world
That asks so much
And gives so little in return?
What is this life?
A fire that refuses to go out,
Even when the rain keeps falling.
Even when the storm leaves you drenched
And shivering.
And yet,
Here you are.
Still burning.
Still standing.
Still reaching for something—
Anything—
To keep you going.
In there—
Deep in the quiet corners of yourself,
Where the light barely reaches.
Where the ache lives,
But so does the hope.
Brave one.
Hold on.
That’s you.
Welcome—
Only always.
Falling through.
Shapeless—
Like the pieces of yourself you’ve forgotten.
Curtain—
Like the veil you’ve drawn over your own heart.
Lie low.
Rest in the shadow of who you were,
And who you might become.
(It’s difficult.)
Hey Blue One.
I see you.
And maybe—just maybe—
You’ll see yourself, too.