Whispers & Ink Drops
This space extends an invitation—to linger in gentle observation and savor words spun with authenticity. Encounter verses and musings shaped to still the rush, open the ear within, and gently beckon your spirit toward quiet contemplation.
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Fluent in Subtraction
I became fluent in subtraction. Skin from bone. Hunger from mouth. Self from self. Carving pieces away with invisible hands, convinced that emptiness was a language everyone else understood. The girls in magazines looked like sharpened things. Beautiful things. Hollowed and polished and held up to the light. So I pressed my palms against my…
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Saltwater and Sparks
Anger arrives first like a struck match. A flare. A hiss. A throat full of smoke. It climbs my ribs with blood-warm hands, demanding somewhere to go, something to break, a name to carve into the walls of my chest. It is sharp-edged and restless. It rattles my bones like loose change in an empty…
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The Kindness That Cost Me My Own Skin
I have learnedhow to romanticize my own silence.How to sit inside dim rooms with aching handsand call it peaceinstead of loneliness. Because solitude,True solitudeDoes not sink its teeth into me the way people do. People arrive like beautiful disasters.All warm mouths and trembling promises.They cup your bruised face gentlyWhile quietly searching for somewhere to place…
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Burn Me Again
I learned earlyHow to make a homeOut of smoke. How to sleep with sirens in my bloodstream.How to swallow grief wholeWithout choking loud enoughFor anyone to notice. Everything around me burned eventually.Hands.Promises.The fragile architecture of hope.Even my name felt singed at the edges,Dragged through years that bit down hard enoughTo leave teeth marks in my…
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The Beautiful Ruin of Unmet Loving
I learned earlythat love, for people like me,arrived with instructions. Be quieter.Softer.Less aching.Less honest.Less alive. So I folded myself into smaller and smaller versions,creased at the edges like paper worried between nervous hands.I trimmed the wildfire from my mouth.Bit down on every bright thing inside me until my teeth tasted like smoke.Until I could no…
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The Weight of Being Consumable
I have spent years learning how to disappear politely.Rib by rib.Smile by smile.A slow erasure dressed up as maturity. The world handed me a knife and called it discipline.Said carve away the unbearable parts.The loud grief.The trembling need.The ugly wanting.Become smaller. Cleaner. Easier to swallow. So I did.God, I did. I split myself open on…
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We Who Carry Collapsing Stars
I am trying in the way dying stars still burn. Violently. Beautifully. Long after collapse has already begun. Every morning I gather the shattered glass of myself with trembling hands. Force breath into ruined lungs. Stitch my name back into my skin like it still belongs there. The world keeps asking me to become softer…
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I am Not the Ash
They pressed me down into ash. Into silence. Into something dim enough to disappear. I believed it. I thought the fire was gone, that I was only what remained after the burning stopped. I learned how to exist in that dimness, how to call it normal, how to forget the feeling of heat altogether. But…
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Inhale Like it Matters
Inhale. Too sharp. Stops halfway. Catches on something unseen. Exhale. Shaky, incomplete. Again. Again. Survival is repetition. Survival is forcing air into a body that resists it. I forgot how to breathe without thinking. Forgot that it could be quiet, automatic, gentle. Every breath felt earned, dragged out of me like confession. But slowly. Small…
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The Violence of Feeling Everything at Once
It flips. No warning. One second I am fire, teeth bared, hands clenched around everything I wish I could destroy. I want to scream. I want to scorch the memory clean. I want something outside of me to break so the inside of me can finally rest. And then, collapse. Water. Heavy, drowning, grief filling…
Brie Nicole Inked 