Periwinkle

"I blamed the correspondence of the twirling, mourned blood."

A poetic monologue unraveling the aftermath of emotional war-where memory is fractured, truths are venom-laced, and even the moon feels too far to touch.

This is not a love poem.
This is a reckoning.

As the speaker grapples with deception, mythology, and the remnants of a relationship that once felt divine, the past returns in waves-sweet, eerie, devastating.

🌌 What do we do when the person we trusted most becomes the ghost haunting our own reflection?

For readers who crave:

Emotionally raw lyricism
Dreamlike imagery & metaphoric depth
Themes of betrayal, myth, femininity, and self-reclamation

You are invited into the ruins. Read slowly-some truths only bloom in the dark.