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i wanted to be loved, but not like this. not like a lighthouse watching ships that never dock.

i have slept with the windows locked, yet the frost still writes its name across my collarbone, like a signature i never learned to forge.

noctivagant-ghost

seethingpage asked:

nothing to ask i just literally love your writing so much. you make me feel so much less alone and like someone understands 🫶🏻

The funny thing about hurting - it’s the loneliest feeling in the world, yet the most crowded.

I hope you know I’m sitting right beside you in every word. 💗

noctivagant-ghost

i followed them, soft-footed through the wheat, where the light blinked steady, slow as a lullaby, soft as a promise. they said not to look too long, but i did, i always do. it blinked again — three times, like mother’s call, like the old church bell, like something i used to know. we stood beneath it, quiet, waiting, the hush settled deep, like a hand pressed gently against the back of the neck. no one spoke, no one moved. when it blinked again, we stepped forward, one by one. the earth did not shake, the sky did not split, the wind did not weep. but i swear the field smiled. and now, when i blink, i blink three times too.

noctivagant-ghost

the windows do not look out anymore, they look in, and i am careful where i cast my gaze.

noctivagant-ghost

they promised the sky was only sleeping, that’s why it bruises, that’s why it melts, that’s why it asks so nicely.

noctivagant-ghost

i wept into the hollow air, where no reply could find its way, a song, a hymn, a wordless prayer, that bloomed and withered in a day.

noctivagant-ghost

i gathered shadows from the floor, to dress the space you left behind, yet every shape became the door, i never had the heart to find.

noctivagant-ghost

i asked the wind to hold me near, but it only passed me by, a stranger with no name to hear, a whisper traced into the sky.

noctivagant-ghost

i stirred the hour until it broke, the porcelain songs too frail to hold, the bitter bloom beneath the throat, a warmth that tasted faintly cold.

noctivagant-ghost

the saints refused me, the sinners forgot, and so i built an altar in between, and knelt alone.

noctivagant-ghost

there are songs i dare not hum, for fear the dead will hear me, and think i still belong to them.

noctivagant-ghost

i whispered your name in the hollow dark, and it returned to me, but not kindly.

noctivagant-ghost

was it hunger or worship, when i drank from the hand that broke me?

noctivagant-ghost

i have danced in the pit, barefoot, and called the flames a familiar warmth.

noctivagant-ghost

there are worse places than hell, and i have called them home.

noctivagant-ghost

Anonymous asked:

You seem to hurt like I do based on your words… or at least can sympathize innately. I very much enjoy your prose and hope you’re doing well. Thank you for sharing! :)

Thank you, truly. It's strange how pain recognizes itself, isn't it? I'm grateful my words found you, even in their small way. I hope you're holding on too.