Frozen Strawberry 

Every sip tastes like August.
A summer caught in the light,
a moment that never moved.

I’ve been living
inside August
for years.

Still waiting
for something to be revealed.

Pure

Pale white milk in a fragile glass,
A fleeting moment longs to pass.
Calm and still, I hold my breath—
White is hope, but not for me.

Α willow veil

In a Silver-shadowed Dusk
a daughter, half-sea, half-flesh

water holds her breath

Hidden shrine
water dreams through her skin.

the lake calls its nymph.

An ancient stone of cosmos

Beneath the stone shell of life,
she rests in the cradle of silence.
The circle carves its ancient patterns,
and the pulse begins again.

Green velvet shadows drip,
a mask of fractured light.
Childhood floats beneath her skin—
An origami secret whispers
where dreams unravel
where loops fade.

The fairytale lulled the girl to sleep,
carrying her to places unforeseen,
perhaps magical—who can truly know?
One thing is certain:
She will return
to the hollow, unjust order of a world that is not enough for her.

Limited Edition: Silence

She had a needle, thin but red
to stitch up stories she never tells.
Scissors trimmed the voice at the root,
because noise
was never cute.

She wore her hush like Sunday best—
a quiet girl,
yet overdressed.

Paint the Roses Red 

Like Alice, I wonder if I’m growing or if the world is simply getting smaller.
Tick tock — a void in my head, keeping the secrets safe.
Between red — blending or bleeding;
Past fairytales don’t quite match my style.
The present is all we ever have, good or bad — keep us here.