Why do I walk alone?
She whispers to herself, her voice soft,
not seeking answers only the sound
of her own thoughts, spilling into silence.
🩸🩸
Sometimes I see myself
covered in blood,
she admits,
as if confessing to the night.
Is it anger, sorrow…or just a dream?
🩸🩸
The air is still, and she listens,
hearing only the gentle beat of her heart.
Maybe I’m carrying too much
maybe these wounds are stories untold.
🩸🩸
She breathes in the shadows around her,...