In The Static

In The Static

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WpMetadataReadComplete Thu, Apr 23, 20267m
I no longer ask the pain to leave. It stays - quiet, breathing beside me. These are not poems about healing, only fragments from nights without sleep, where thoughts move slower than my pulse. I write when silence becomes too loud, when I forget what it means to feel. Maybe this is all that's left of being alive - words, and the sound of my heart still trying.
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#202
painfull
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These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.

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