dark poetry
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A door in Black Briar Forest holds every apology and goodbye that never came, until she chooses a path that goes around it.
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One glowing window in a sleeping house holds the last confession of a night that still has not learned how to end.
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Before sleep, set down the worries, conversations, and impossible expectations that were never meant to follow you into the dark.
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After sunset, the brave face comes off and loneliness settles beside the cold cup, asking to be felt instead of outrun.
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In a ruined chapel of ravens and ivy, one candle burns for the women history called wicked because they refused to disappear quietly.
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Black-laced branches, a cracked stone step, and a doorway barely touched by candlelight mark a house that does not wish to be fully seen.
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Maybe ghosts smoke too; something upstairs answers while the candle throws impossible shadows and the exhaled smoke never comes back out.
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The candle bows toward an empty doorway before she understands the old house is not as abandoned as it appears.
Between Bruises & Blooms 