☍
      T H ᗴ R ᗴ           𝙸 𝚂    
                  𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨
            ❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎ buried 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝             the s n o w
  ⟴   i t   h a d    a n a m e    once  
      ☓ now it is just a           flicker-in-breath
            ⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁
            a  𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖?          literal / no / but also          carved
           ◬ ◬ ◬          into   m e m o r y ⊚
              the walls hum         they do not echo
                              they
                                 ❛exhale❜
            / a chair /          asleep        inside its own outline
            ⚭     breath is no longer a visitor
                         it is the wallpaper itself
                        peeling     inward         like        regret
     ☒           ☒           ☒
        i 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧      at the door
                    out of breath
             coughing up                 static
                         a 𝕕𝕠𝕘 is there
                       black     chained
                foaming
              like a prayer          left too long
        ✞         and still              i opened
                          the stench:         ⪻ unwriteable ⪼
             𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱's       𝓞𝓵𝓭        𝓗𝓪𝓫𝓲𝓽
              something dead 𝘢𝘯𝘥 smiling
                          like it knew i’d return
i hold        (on)
         not to love—
   but to            g r i t
         the way a jaw locks         before it breaks
     ✖︎          ❬ can i be there ❭          ✖︎
              ❰ 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 ❱
                 i pleaded
                         with nothing
                     ⌿ it answered in mirrors
                                  no words
                            just the tremor
                      of a shape     not touching      me
       𖤐     pessimism            is          divinity     𖤐
              abstraction, no longer gentle
                  now just            slashes on skin
                  forgotten,         forgiven        by no one
       ◉
               i yearn for  
                      what cannot
                             be    mended
              because mending   is forgetting
         and 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙚
                  than forget
            the sound             of you leaving
         ∞
                     you won’t read this
                     not really
                     you’ll only feel
                         the shape
                             it left in me
                    and that           is the only thing that matters
                ⟁     i love you     ⟁
              not sweetly
                  not wholly
                     not rightly
              i love you
              like a last breath
               —held until the ribs
                        **crack**
     𓆩        𝙁 𝙄 𝙉 𝘿     𝙈 𝙀         𓆪
                 not in heaven
                 not in books
                 not in time
                         but where the floor fades
                            and i remain
                          holding onto you
            (        ↓        )
         (             𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕨            )
   (                       𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕨                      )
(       where it ends.       )
             ⤬