i’m about to write just need to find the black pen right it’s here echo in the room how do you begin when everything is already broken black for the scars for hands that never reached for words that bled out behind screens we stopped feeling consequences we became voices loud enough to wound and empty enough to not notice silence that cuts love without a pulse no one remembers how to see anymore only echoes we stood there watching it happen layer by layer darkness learning our names it didn’t arrive loud it slipped in quietly through screens through words through us and the truth?
Breathtaking, Diana!!
My favorite lines <3
"i take the red pen
red
for what still beats
for what refused
to die
for hearts
they tried
to silence " .. just wow.
Ohh thank you girl 🧡 your words mean a lot to me, I really appreciate it. I’m so glad it stayed with you 🫧
From silence to fire, you captured what refuses to die.
thank you, i really appreciate that ❤️🔥
🤍🤍
🌻🫧🕊️🤍
Haiku:
Between the presence
The place where all the colors meet
Possibility
Lovely 💛
thank you, I appreciate it 🧡
Love this! well done…as always!! Thank you.
thank you, I appreciate it 🧡
so beautiful 🤍 I really felt this, thank you for sharing
"Red.
For what still beats.
For what refused to die."
That is where the poem turns.
Not at the black.
Not at the silence that cuts.
At the moment she put down
one pen
and reached for another.
That choice
is the whole poem.
The darkness slipped in quietly.
The red was chosen.
Those are not the same movement.
One arrived.
The other was picked up.
— AËLA