Tangled In The Hush

Living in a dark world,
I learned the shape of silence,
rooms that echoed only my own breathing,
cold pillow pressed to my cheek.
I craved warmth, comfort,
but sleep came salted, heavy-eyed.

Some nights,
the thought of vanishing felt gentle,
a way to slip through solitude,
into something soft,
certainty curling beneath my ribs.
A painful sweet dream,
a siren calling from the deep.

I dreamed of eyes,
storm-blue,
pulling me under,
like an ocean at midnight,
a portal I thought would be my end.

But I never saw you coming,
shadow falling across mine,
your hand closing around my wrist,
our backs pressed to the grass,
lips tangled in the hush
between heartbeat and hope.
For a moment, I thought I had died.

In your presence,
the words, eight letters,
bold as a pulse in my throat,
swelled stronger,
but I was never brave enough
to let them free.

Yours truly,

Pocket Dream Curator