ashs and echoes

The nights are loud with thoughts that sting, a storm beneath unmended skin. You chase a quiet, fleeting breath, a moment’s pause from all the rest. The vape’s soft cloud, a borrowed calm, a ghost of peace that never stays long. It curls like questions in the air, a comfort made of thinning prayer. And deeper still, the hidden ache— the kind you never meant to make. A wound that speaks what words can’t say, a shadow carved from yesterday. But even storms can lose their weight, and even hearts can shift their fate. There’s light that waits beyond the haze, a gentler hand, a kinder day. You’re more than scars or borrowed smoke, more than the hurt you never spoke. And somewhere in the rising dawn, your strength is learning to hold on.