May 22
There's a version of being completely lost where the wandering stops feeling terrifying — and starts feeling like the only thing that's ever made complete sense.
The cold marble under barefoot steps, the scent of blue roses on the balcony breeze, lace against her skin, and a massive, star-crowned moon illuminating the jagged spires of a castle from a forgotten age. The beautiful contradiction is the whole point.
That late-night, deep-breathing kind of solace has a sound. It's a portal to a nocturnal sanctuary where tomorrow never comes, and you never have to face the morning.
