my silence coils like a serpent, tightening with each horizon’s dim,
i once thought inscribing onto fragile parchment could bleed out the ache,

but the ink curdles before it soothes,
each word rises like a splinter beneath the flesh to conjure her shadow,
days stagger forward as if drunk, and i unravel into ciphers,
hours calcify into abandoned monuments,

nights echo as hollow vaults,

and each breath signs its name in a ledger emptied of light,
my tongue remains sealed by the futility of sound,
the void hums, mocking my plea with her absence,
thus i clutch to silence, cruel confidant, the only witness that pretends to listen.