We break without falling.

Under cashmere linen,
we lie still�"
drenched in the weight of thought,
sobbing wounds
saltier than the tears that shaped them.

The night sky watches
as our eyes lock onto stars,
focused�"
like freshly squeezed juice
held in a broken glass,
sweet and spilling.

Our thoughts, unraveling threads.
Our minds, brimming with questions
too loud for silence
and too soft for answers.

Before the sun claws its way back,
we fold ourselves beneath
the umbrella of isolation�"
frayed and faded,
depression stitched into every seam.

Like fragile bones,
we do not break
from the fall,
nor from the truth's sharp stone.

We break
because silence�"
that relentless hammer�"
swings not to shatter glass,
but to fracture fate itself.

Author's Note

i was just zoning and thought of this hope you like it