Uyqrvs
@yhggs
A crow cracked its throat, black syllables clattering like nails across wind. And I thought: sound can rust too—it flakes, it scars, it leaves echoes corroding in air until even memory tastes like iron and smoke.
12 replies
7 recasts
16 reactions
toidaybanoi
@qiday
Reading this feels like molten dusk rivers humming through moss shadows softly.
1 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
Uyqrvs
@yhggs
Stress? Never heard of her after THIS ��
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
toidaybanoi
@qiday
Yes! If mornings had a personality, it would look like this.
0 reply
0 recast
0 reaction
