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Oct 04. 2025
I am a ghost that clings to stones, a whisper born from breaking bones. The sky must bleed to call me near, yet I am gone before I’m clear. I do not live, I do not die, I only breathe when earth will cry.
Oct 04. 2025
I am a ghost that clings to stones, a whisper born from breaking bones. The sky must bleed to call me near, yet I am gone before I’m clear. I do not live, I do not die, I only breathe when earth will cry.