ؘ

Blood-warm roses weep on broken stone, still dreaming of hands that once held them gently.

[ؘ @xjunked]

@INTLRPFESS Célia Halverine.

[ؘ @xjunked]

Still, the tide pulls.
Still, the moon bends.
Still, I follow.
Both sides, both sides, both sides.

[ؘ @xjunked]

https://t.co/nXBjcwlDb1

[ؘ @xjunked]

I used to think the moon held its own shape, but even that pale witness is nothing more than a slave to pull and pressure. Maybe we all are. Maybe that’s why I keep circling back to you, like a wound fingering its own edges.

[ؘ @xjunked]

And maybe the poets were right, love isn’t some fickle cameo. You can fall out of it, lose it, curse it, bury it—but as long as your heart keeps its stubborn rhythm, the muscle remembers. It always remembers.

[ؘ @xjunked]

Who am I to dam the river that insists on flooding my chest? My heart sulks when it has no muse to carve its hymns into, no face to haunt its melodies.

[ؘ @xjunked]

@moongayounga Baby, baby. 🤍

[ؘ @xjunked]

@RPWORLDFESS If you wanted peace, you should’ve scrolled past me. Chaos is literally my brand.

[ؘ @xjunked]

Some days the world feels half-real, like I’m stitched between a shoreline and a daydream. If that’s the case, then let the tide claim me gently and return me moon-touched.

[ؘ @xjunked]

I wonder if there is a realm where silence is fluent, where longing is understood without ever being voiced. Perhaps it’s in the pause between heartbeats, in the hush before the world exhales. Some nights, I almost believe the darkness is listening.

[ؘ @xjunked]

It’s strange how the dusk lingers, as though the sky itself refuses to let go. The air feels thick, like it carries every unspoken word I’ve swallowed. In that stillness, I catch myself reaching for a presence I can’t name, a tether that hums beneath the skin.

[ؘ @xjunked]

@INTLRPFESS Companionship is in short supply lately, so consider this a friendly wave from my side of the timeline.

[ؘ @xjunked]

Here, close to the earth, everything sounds distant. Like life is happening in another room, and I’m only catching the echoes meant to haunt me gently.

[ؘ @xjunked]

A cloud of dust swirls in the corner of the room, a phantom memory stirred by the whisper of a breeze.

[ؘ @xjunked]

And honestly, what’s left to dig out of the wreckage when all that lingers is an echo that won’t answer back, and a loneliness that sits beside me like it’s paid rent?

[ؘ @xjunked]

I’ve circled back to this ruin so often it feels like home. Keep tripping over the same grief, the same dust, the same ghost of myself left behind last time.