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With the stillness of the void, I failed to exist.
My silhouette ripped away flesh from its mist.
My silence, my shelter, this singular state.
It whispers the paradox of truths in my fate.

In these depths of thought, as righteous as my sin,
Another me was synced into the symphony within.
This void, was a canvas. Our souls were the art.
Revealing dualities of my mind and heart.

Synchronized, and pure, we could finally sing.
I've longed for the closure I knew it would bring.
Here in the black where I'm vanished, I'm whole.
Past the infinite horizon, the home of my soul.

This silence, we keep so our secrets can dwell.
'Til the day we escape from the gates of our hell.
We are tethered at the soul. We exist hand in hand.
Protecting an existence no one would understand.

In the quiet of my conscience, you'll find the true me.
As infinitely clean as the energy I'll be.
In the realm I create to keep my heart from the cold.
Where my dreams hold the proof, I'll eternally grow.

In sync with my conscience, from the void, hums a tune.
It called me from beyond the dark side of the moon
And as I would chase, I'd no longer feel.
Heard a whisper from above say, "Reality is not real."

Then, I felt the earth breathe in my synchronized state.
Two souls blend as one, we now share the same fate.
Our emotions fly freely in the nothing. Enigmatic.
We embrace the obscure. We are lost in the static.

In quantum subconscious, the dark and light blend.
Showing every shade of me as one with no end,
Not dull and not bright. Not filthy nor clean.
There's black and white, we both exist there, in between.

Our silence, it screamed. Ripped fabric grew seams.
As sleepless as I am, in this void, I have dreams.
I whisper line the ether, that whispers to me.
Escaping all that is, to embrace all that will be.

Without need for understanding or firm beliefs,
I silently listened as the universe speaks.
I've seen another me in the nothing. Enigmatic.
Living in the obscure, he found a home in my static.
When you come home, I will hold you like you deserve to be held—delicately, reverently.
You wont ever have to lift a single thought.
I will draw the pain out of you with every warm touch, soothe your body with the rhythm of my breath against yours, and I will pour all my energy into the parts of you that ache. You deserve peace, you deserve the softness that you carry within yourself so easily.
Rest in me.
Let me gently put you back together again, and make you whole.
Written as a collective, both of us as one.
Rose May 19
today was like most days,
we lay together in my bed.

skin to skin.
heart to heart.

your head resting on my chest,
our breaths syncing onto one rhythm.

you held me so tight,
with such love and care.

the only difference today,
from all the days before,

was that today,
you wiped my tears as they fell.

and today,
i wasn't your girlfriend.

yet you still looked at me
with the same love in your eyes.

maybe even more.
is his arms is my favorite place to be
Cadmus May 26
🎭

I’m the fire that craves,
and the frost that forgets.

Love me well,
and I’ll burn eternal.

Cross me once,
and I’ll silence the sun.

Your move.
This piece expresses emotional duality… the ability to feel deeply while remaining capable of complete detachment. It’s not a contradiction, but a warning: intensity flows both ways.
Cadmus May 22
I am tired from tomorrow…
Its not even here yet.

Tired from yesterday…
Its not even here anymore.

I am tired.

🌂
This poem captures the weight of chronic emotional fatigue - the kind that doesn’t wait for events to unfold but clings to both memory and anticipation. It’s a quiet admission that sometimes, simply existing across time is exhausting.
Cadmus May 19
🚪

If your past knocks,
don’t answer.

It’s not here to talk

it’s here to wreck
what took you years
to rebuild.

Let it knock.
Let it wait.
Let it rot.

Just don’t forget:
some doors
are better sealed
forever.
This piece is a reminder that not every return deserves a welcome. The past, especially the parts you’ve outgrown, often carries the power to unravel healing. Strength lies not in revisiting, but in refusing to regress.
Cadmus May 20
🩸

We all have wounds.
Not all of them
show blood
trickling on the skin
those are the lesser ones.

The body heals.
Scabs form.
Scars fade.

But some wounds
bleed a different kind of red
silent,
invisible,
constant.

They live beneath smiles,
hide behind handshakes,
and echo
in quiet rooms.

No bandage fits them.
No doctor sees them.
And yet,
they shape us more
than any knife ever could.
This poem explores the unseen nature of emotional and psychological pain. While physical wounds are acknowledged and treated, the deeper, invisible ones often go unnoticed, yet they linger far longer and shape who we become.
Cadmus May 19
Sometimes,

you find yourself walking alone.

not because you’re lost,

but because you know

the road

so **** well.
This poem reframes solitude not as confusion, but as clarity born from experience. It honors the strength of those who choose to walk alone - not from loneliness, but from hard-earned wisdom.
Cadmus May 21
🥃

I must’ve been drunk,
under a spell,
or half-asleep
with my soul on mute

because some of the people
I let into my life
were the kind
I wouldn’t let near
if I’d been even
half
conscious.

Not in daylight.
Not with clarity.
Not with my guard up
and my self-respect awake.

like a fool
hosting thieves
in the middle of a dream.

🥃
This piece captures the bewilderment and regret of past emotional decisions, highlighting how vulnerability, distraction, or denial can invite people into our lives who never deserved the invitation. It’s a bitter laugh at our own temporary blindness.
Cadmus May 23
🖤

Just pray
you don’t push me far enough
to show you
how heartless I can be.

I’ve buried mercy
for those who went too deep.

I’ve smiled
while walking away from flames
I used to feed.

There’s a silence in me
darker than rage,
a calm
that doesn’t beg,
warn,
or explain.

🖤
This poem is a quiet warning cloaked in composure. It speaks to the stillness that comes not from indifference, but from practiced restraint, the kind that’s capable of cruelty, but chooses silence. Until silence becomes the sharpest answer of all.
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