She rises through veils of starlight,
half-formed, half-remembered,
a dream whispering itself awake.
Galaxies ripple at her passing,
their edges bending soft as fabric,
their fire trembling in her shadow.
She is the silence between moons,
the breath that unravels comets,
the mirror in which time forgets its face.
Every step dissolves into light,
every gesture fractures into colour.
She is
a secret the universe cannot hold,
a vision dreamt by eternity.
Screaming into the void,
Do I exist at all
When my voice is swallowed whole
By silence,
When I vanish beneath the weight
Of unseen shadows?
I am here,
But no one knows.
Flesh and bone dissolve
Into whispers of what was.
I shout my name into the darkness,
But it fades like smoke,
Like a song unheard.
Am I real
If no one sees,
If no one feels the tremble
Of my pulse
In the spaces between?
Invisibility wraps around me
Like an empty cloak,
And I wonder,
Do I exist
When the world looks right through me?
But perhaps, in this quiet place,
I am more than the noise they refuse to hear.
Maybe, in the silence, I reclaim the space
Without their eyes.
If everything stops,
and words fall from our minds,
like leaves from autumn branches,
would this be the end of us?
Where would we have lost
the ghosts of who we were?
In the quiet spaces between breaths,
in the silences we left unsaid?
Would we find them scattered,
like echoes that never reached the shore,
or caught in the wind,
like whispered truths we chose to ignore?
If all that’s left are shadows,
fading from our skin,
where do we go from here?
Do the ghosts of us simply disappear?
There’s an ocean inside my head,
Waves of thoughts, unsaid, unread.
If I knew how to stay, to be still,
I’d never leave, against my will.
I feel your spirit touch my soul,
A steady force when I lose control.
Anchored by you, yet drifting wide,
Lost in currents where shadows hide.
Your voice, a breeze that stirs the night,
A whisper just beyond my sight.
Tides of longing pull me near,
Only to fade as you draw clear.
Through winds that rage and skies serene,
You are the echo, soft, unseen.
In every rise and quiet deep,
You are the secret I dare not keep.
If I could stay, I’d hold my ground,
Though waves persist without a sound.
Still, in the depths where light is thin,
Your presence always draws me in.
In the quiet pull of dawn,
the sun lifts once more—familiar, yet new.
Every rise, a shift unseen,
as light touches what it never has before.
The river sings its ancient song,
but every bend carries time anew.
Water once passed now lost, now found,
as currents learn the art of change.
A leaf falls with the same soft whisper,
yet the ground it meets has grown.
The tree still stands, its roots deep,
but its branches stretch a little farther.
Each breath we take, a rhythm we know,
yet the air shifts as it fills us.
We are the pulse of moments lived again—
not circles, but spirals, turning, rising.
Repetition is not stillness,
it is the heartbeat of becoming.
In each return, we find ourselves
becoming what we were never meant to stay.
reflections of an unquiet mind 