Mirage

“Is it better to speak or die?”

[girlwithcurlss]

Write to me, and I’ll fold your words like origami birds, setting them free in the cathedral of my chest.

[girlwithcurlss]

We text in silence more than words,

A period hanging,

A breath caught in the glow of the screen.

You send a single “Hey,”

And I know: "You’re drowning again."

No coffee dates.

No hands brushing as we walk.

But I’ve memorized the rhythm of your typing,

The way you pause before saying you’re hurting,

Like pain is a secret too heavy to speak.

I’ve seen your panic in pixels,

A voice note trembling,

A photo of your window at 3 a.m.,

The sky still dark,

Like your head won’t let you rest.

And I sit here, miles away,

Fighting the urge to scream,

"Just let me hold you."

But all I have is this:

A reply that says,

"I’m here."

Not “It’ll be okay.”

Just: "I’m here."

Like an anchor.

Like a pulse.

Your “I’m okay” is a lie.

So’s mine.

You don’t need me to fix it.

You just need me to "witness" it.

And so I do_

Through screens, through time zones,

Through the ache of absence.

We don’t share a table,

But we’ve split the weight of survival.

And when my own world cracks,

You’re there,

Not in flesh, but in fire,

Texting back before I finish sending:

"I’m not leaving."

This is our intimacy:

Raw.

Unfiltered.

Built in the quiet between messages,

In the courage it takes to say,

"I’m not okay,"

And knowing...

"You won’t disappear."

[girlwithcurlss]

Again I’m back to your grave,

I asked, "How are you?"

You replied with petals blowing,

soft, fleeting, light as a lie.

I told you I don’t weep now.

You whispered through the breezing air,

"Then why does your shadow cling

like a shroud to the stone I bear?"

I said I’ve learned to walk,

to breathe without your name;

You stirred the leaves in laughter,

"Yet here you are. The same."

I said I burned the letters.

You echoed in the hush;

"Then why do I smell smoke

in the air when you’re near?"

I came to say I’m free.

You rustled low, "Then go."

But my feet stay rooted in the soil,

and my heart won’t let you know

how much it aches to leave...

how love outlives even death’s decree.

So I stand, not as mourner,

but as proof you’re gone;

and you reply with silence,

the cruelest poem ever known.

[girlwithcurlss]

Home body by Rupi kaur

[girlwithcurlss]

My heart is a broken cassette, stuck on rewind, playing the same warped track over and over. I can’t eject it. I don’t even remember the last time it worked right _before the static, before the snap of the tape that left it chewing itself in the machine. Now it just loops, a fragment of a song I can’t escape.

"You were here, you were here, you were here…"

The melody’s gone, replaced by that low, pulsing hum _the sound of absence. I press play without meaning to, and suddenly you’re in the room again. Not real, never real anymore, but close enough to make my chest tighten. I see your hands, the way they hovered near mine, never quite touching. I hear your voice, softened at the edges like a worn-down groove. I smell the rain on your jacket, the faint citrus of your soap.

And then...the click. The skip. The line I can’t get past, "I should’ve said it when I had the chance."

It plays. Again. Again. Again.

I try to distract myself _music through earphones, loud and sharp, something with a beat that doesn’t breathe. But the cassette underneath hums louder, drowning it out. It doesn’t care about other songs. It only knows its loop: the memory of your laugh, the silence after you left, the words I swallowed like stones.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever hear it too. If, in the quiet of your night, a ghost of our refrain flickers in your mind. But then I remember ...you walked away with your tape intact. Mine’s the one left spinning, unraveling, playing to an empty room.

And still, I press play.

Because even broken, it remembers you best.

[girlwithcurlss]

"All I am is literature, and I am not able or willing to be anything else"

Franz Kafka

[girlwithcurlss]

"I dwell in What Ifs."

[girlwithcurlss]

Realizing you've been hyperfixating on hyperfixation is just your brain's way of achieving peak recursion.

Congratulations, you're not distracted _you're meta-focused.

[dailykafka]

— December 19, 1911 / Franz Kafka diaries

[girlwithcurlss]

Winter margin space

I write slower than my grief

the page keeps quiet.

[girlwithcurlss]

I wake.

Light through blinds.

Coffee.

Desk.

Screen.

Neighbors above move furniture.

Thump. Thump.

Silence.

Evening.

Microwave.

Plate.

Sink.

Window.

Lights across the way.

Other rooms.

Other lives.

I turn off the lamp.

Dark.

Same as yesterday.

[girlwithcurlss]

Time doesn’t slow. It just… disappears.

[girlwithcurlss]

Is this the worst year for you as well?

I don’t think "worst" is the right word for me. It was both good and bad, a mix of challenges and growth. I had ups and downs but that's the beauty of life itself. I’ve learned setting boundaries not out of guilt, but for my self-respect. I’ve made my share of mistakes this year_rushing decisions, avoiding hard conversations, chasing approval instead of truth. But I’m learning to see them not as failures, but as feedback. I don’t expect to stop making mistakes...they’re part of moving forward, not signs of falling behind. I think I’ll keep misstepping, Yes _but not blindly. Each time, I’m learning what to adjust, how to listen deeper, think clearer, and act with more intention.

Some days I stayed quiet; on others, I existed loudly. There were days when I lay in bed, going without talking to anyone, and days when I chose to focus on myself. Some days I stopped doing everything _but later, I lifted myself up without anyone convincing me.

This year I've gained new people but lost most. I watched friendships I thought were unshakable fade_some slipped away with distance, others cracked under misunderstandings I couldn’t glue back together.

Learned some things and unlearned others. I stopped believing I had to say yes to everything, and instead learned the power of boundaries. I used to think failure was something to avoid, but this year taught me it’s essential to learning.

If I had to sum up this year in one word _It might be Growth. It wasn’t just about achieving more, but becoming more: more aware, more resilient, more intentional.

I broke, I cried, I healed, and I lived.

(Whoa...I’ve spilled more words than I meant to. I can turn this into a short story. I started writing and just… couldn't stop. My apologies for the essay)

[girlwithcurlss]

Why did you remove people from commenting on your posts ?

Ohh, I was irritated by spams _they're just annoying. It feels like they're watching you; it's creepy. So, I cut out the noise because my peace mattered more.

[girlwithcurlss]

Coffee tastes better with you,

coffee tastes bitter without you;

I didn’t know I could miss someone

this much,

that my mornings could feel hollow,

my hands empty,

my heart loud in the silence.

I keep your cup here,

half-full, half-remembered,

pretending the steam carries your warmth

back to me.

I’m admitting it now:

I’m addicted to you.

[girlwithcurlss]

"Milena, If a million loved you, I am one of them, and if one loved you, it was me, and if no one loved you then know that I am dead."

—Franz Kafka

[girlwithcurlss]

Healing starts when we stop pretending we're fine and let someone say, "Me neither. Want to sit here together?"