Anonymous Umbra

Turning pain into beauty

Breadcrumb: Midweek Stirring

Some things are better left unsaid.

But silence still echoes.

She said he never knocked —

just entered like he still had the right.

He thought she wouldn’t remember.

He was wrong.

We wear too many faces to be found.

And when the reckoning comes,

it always smells like roses

and rot.

Good luck fighting the wind.

Posted in

Leave a comment

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started