*TW: Panicking , overthinking, SS thought.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Spiraling was what Mirah did best.

Her mind had this gift—this curse—of spinning out endless scenarios. Things that would never happen. Things that couldn’t. But in her world, where everything already had, anything felt possible.

Her head throbbed from the weight of it all—thoughts, monstrous and mean, piling on without mercy.

She was ...

Fish zoomed past the glass, a trail of bubbles spiraling behind them. I stayed transfixed, watching a yellow tang pause, stare at me, then flinch before it darted into the abyss of the tank.

A slow smile curled onto my face. I pressed a finger to the glass. My reflection shimmered back—wild curls braided loosely, tanned skin, and dark emerald eyes staring straight at me.

But beyond my ragged ref...

who are we when no one’s watching?

i could write a story,

but even the words would betray us—

not the way your name still burns through my skin,

not the way we always sat just out of reach,

as if the world itself knew

we weren’t meant to belong.

but goodness, how we tried,

and still, we couldn’t hide.

they weren’t bad people,

just voices full of reason—

they said, leave it makes sense,

and i li...

The subway rattled beneath them, a steady hum in the silence. It smelled like stale air and rust, the kind of place where time felt frozen. The kind of place where people passed through but never stayed.

Grayson sat stiff beside her, arms crossed, gaze locked on the window as the city blurred past in streaks of dull orange and electric blue.

He wasn’t sure why he was here.

Well, he did. He just...

She wasn’t listening to him, but he could hear her heartbeat—steady, then quickening, a quiet betrayal he couldn’t ignore. Her pulse hammered in his ears, louder than the soft rustle of the wind, mocking him in ways he couldn’t escape. Even without seeing her eyes, he could feel the weight of her gaze, heavy in the dark, like an impossible hope he couldn’t chase. Above them, the stars hung like di...

(Not my best, but I tried lol. TW: Violence, graphic description, death.)

POV: Marcus

Blood welled. Swords clashed. The air was thick with the metallic ring of steel and the screams—some of agony, some of triumph.

We were losing.

Half my men lay broken on the field, their bodies slick with blood. The enemy pressed forward, relentless, pulling out weapons and tricks I hadn’t even registered unt...

TW: Violence, death

Part two—POV: The fool

Never in my life did I believe joy was meant for someone like me—someone who has stained this world with blood and grief. I have killed. I have bled. I have caused suffering. And yet, here it is. A sliver of joy, carefully hidden away, meant for me.

Her.

The most beautiful soul I’ve ever laid eyes on, the only one I wish to look at. I can’t even recall...

Trigger warning: Violence, graphic descriptions.

Part One—POV: The Assassin.

The room is silent.

Still, like a breath held too long.

I am still, yet my head reels, my thoughts crash and break like waves against stone. I did that.

The knife in my hand is heavier now, as if it has taken on the weight of what I’ve done. The tip drips red—his blood.

Oh, gods—

My gaze falls to the floor, to h...

(Not a poem!!)

The piano keys felt like a second language to Athena, their melody flowing through her fingers as if they whispered secrets only she could understand. In this sanctuary, tucked away from the world, she became one with the music—her heart beating in time with each note, a hymn of sorrow and longing. The rain outside lashed against the cracked windows, a soft, persistent drumbeat, a...

(Was in my feelings and ended up writing this 😭—Also, not a poem but a short story)

Should I feel relieved, or should I drown in sorrow?

You were mine, yet you felt like a ghost—always near, never close, a presence just beyond reach. We were stitched together in hellos and goodbyes, and yet, those three words were always a tether, a quiet salvation.

I love you.

And I did. I loved you like ...