30s - art and poetry
Just a public journal from my fkked up mind
Velvette
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My depression isn't the kind where I'll intentionally kms, but it's the kind where I *kind of* hope someone runs a red light while I drive through an intersection😅
Pour your sorrows into me
between the sheets
and come out clean.
Oh, how eloquently
two souls can speak.
Sometimes, love is about being selfless. Letting go in spite of the pain was the best thing I could do for everyone involved. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, every single day. It just means I’d rather suffer than cause others suffering.
The screen kept your shape in my hands,
a small light I learned to trust.
I counted the pauses between replies,
built a map from fragments and late-night fonts.
When we let go, the chat stayed open, a room with no footsteps,
and I kept visiting the doorway, rehearsing the warmth I had only for you.