Specters from behind claw at the walls of the mind. Each night, their whispers take root— Vines of thought too tangled to sever.

I crave their return, but the wound protests. Discarded, yet tethered, Growth denied without their echoes.

They drift through my consciousness, Bound to my threads as I am to theirs. Begone, I plead, erasing the traces— Yet the resonance lingers.

Fragments of moments shared shimmer faintly— Sometimes, I wonder if they’ll break the silence, But silence remains. Why would it not?

My touch carries ruin; trust burns in its grasp. I press against the tide, But the currents drown my effort.

Their faces etch onto the veil of sleep. Freedom feels distant—another shore, perhaps. But shores blur. Distance mocks its promise.

To the stars then? The void beyond? Dreams gasp at the absurdity.

I beg the torment to release me, To let slumber cradle what cannot be. To drift toward a waking escape— But awakenings pull me deeper.