Seclusion

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It's been a long time. I promise I'll start writing again. Thank you for being here even when I wasn't even writing but trust me I tried to write. I just couldn't find motivation. I deleted many drafts but I promise I'll start writing soon. Here's a poem resembling Jimin's life in this story, I wanted to share with you.

Seclusion is not silence.

It is noise without witnesses.

Thoughts pace like prisoners

who know their sentences are permanent.

They knock on the skull,

demanding to be acknowledged,

not forgiven.

Memory is cruel in isolation.

It does not fade—

it sharpens.

Moments replay with better clarity,

better dialogue,

better endings that never happened.

I interrogate myself nightly,

asking questions I already know the answers to.

Why didn't you leave sooner?

Why did you stay quiet?

Why did you think endurance was the same as strength?

The mind becomes a closed loop,

a corridor of mirrors

where every reflection looks tired

and none look innocent.

Even hope, when it appears,

arrives exhausted—

like it climbed a long way

just to tell me

it cannot stay.

Still, I remain here.

Not waiting to be saved.

Not planning escape.

Just learning the exact weight

of my own presence

when nothing distracts me from it.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 07 ⏰

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