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I like walking at night when the city looks softer. Lights blur, sounds fade, and the world feels like it’s whispering instead of shouting.
Crazy how fast ppl reply when it’s gossip, but take 2 business days when u ask for help.
Slow and steady duo.
The ocean belched obsidian froth, vomiting vowels in saline spume. I gargled its guttural gloss and thought: diction drowns in deluge—lexicons liquefy when tides tongue their consonants through coral throats.
Beneath the jagged grin of storm hums thunder, chains rattling hymns through clouds bruised black. Lightning licks sky into ribbons slick with blaze, and I drink its glare raw, lips salted bright, praying awe nailed wide against the molten jaw of night.
If I could pause one moment today, it’d be when the sun hit the windows just right.
Stars leaked down the throat of night like molten coins, dropping into dark jars of ocean. And I thought: wealth hoards in silence—it piles gold under black water, mocking hands that thirst for light they’ll never lift.