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THE ART OF EMPTY ARMS.
(WHERE DO THE LONE SOULS GO..?)I,
@Somi, wander through nights heavy with silence, chasing echoes of a voice that never stayed. Craving a hand that doesn’t flinch, a heart that doesn’t fade. There’s a weight to solitude, an ache no noise can smother. I search for someone who tastes the same emptiness, who knows how shadows cling when lights go out.
HOLLOW EYES ི 𖢖. ゜▒ ..
UNSEEN.
“But Not Every Soul Is Built To Stay.”
And yet, I reach. For words that burn clean. For company that doesn’t sugarcoat the void. Maybe, in sharing the hollow, we tear it wide enough to breathe. Maybe some wounds need witnesses to heal. A companion—raw, untamed—who won’t flinch at the dark corners of my mind. Someone who knows that even jagged souls deserve to be held without trembling.
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