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aviisevil May 6

If you must know—
know that I am not the sun.
Shadows have settled
deep in my bones,
like old tenants
who no longer pay rent
but still stay.

My thoughts turn to thorns,
curling inward
until I bleed
from the inside out.

My whispers scorch my breath,
my silences
scream in tongues
no one hears.

Night is the song I seethe—
a lullaby laced with rust,
and every dream
is a bruise
I wake to.

There is darkness
in my veins,
not the poetic kind—
but the heavy kind,
the kind that forgets
how to move,
how to feel warmth,
how to want the morning.

And some days,
I forget
how light ever
found me.
How I ever
let it in.


aviisevil May 5











It is the month
of the bluest skies

when lovers bloom
beneath the yellow sun

like trees brushed green
once more

They dance freely
in the summer wind
barefoot
on soft earth

unbothered by
the seasons yet to
come

as if autumn
were but a rumor

carried quietly
in the hush
between













aviisevil May 4












nothing comes
to mind—
only years
long gone

through snow
and rain
in summer’s fire
and winter’s hush

laughter echoed
tears fell
mountains stood still

seas we crossed
films we lived
and all our
innocence

now just stories
letters
memories

how deeply we yearn
for what we
already hold











aviisevil Apr 26


to wake with
a heavy heart,
sinking into
the bed sheets —

battling
the abyss,

the long days
yet to come
gathering dust
in the corners
of this room.

sunlight spills,
scattering ruins
dangling by threads;

storms rise,
rage,
and disappear.

shadows linger
in the folds
of the curtains,

the clock ticks —
a slow, tired drip
into the silence.

hope is a moth
beating itself
against the window,

a soft persistence
against an endless sky.

still, the body breathes,
still, the heart remembers
the shape of light.


aviisevil Apr 24

I see brittle coffers
offering arms, legs,
and eyes—

palms, flesh,
and brittle bone—

trading sky
for a sliver of moon,

measuring heartache
on rusted scales,
trying to balance
what’s already broken.

While those behind
windows and curtains
and silence

take quiet note
of what you become
with time.



aviisevil Apr 12


i failed you —
again
and again

you
so afraid
of everything

hidden in your room
curtains drawn
windows boarded
lights gone dim

bowed before your gods
praying
begging
knowing

i’ve never known
anyone stronger —

to live
as you did
to love
as you have

exhausted
fighting
still dreaming

the world
wasn’t for you
but you
never complained

so this is
my ode to you

i’m sorry


aviisevil Apr 7


last week
was survival.

i chewed the hours
like glass candy,
smiling blood.

tomorrow
i return
to the fire.

even the tears
have abandoned me—
silent deserters.

if only
i were the abyss,
endless.

or the pit below,
forgotten
and deep.

if only
i were meant
to be devoured—
ripped, gnawed, gone.

or maybe
a silver cloud,
slipping between
sun and sorrow.

a mountain,
unmoved.

a river,
unbothered.

the sea,
never full.

but alas—
i am only me.

and tomorrow,
i burn again


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