29.03.2026
In response to:
https://wp.me/p1CKcK-YD
My mind rumbles,
a restless creature pacing—
back and forth,
a quiet criminal of sleep.
I visit old corridors,
where thinking leaves its fingerprints
in the dirt of forgotten rooms.
A voice in my head insists:
to know is to walk deeper,
even when the path trembles.
Something in me exists
only when I write—
a hidden writer
etching truth
into the dark.
— Maggie
The Afterlove Voice 💫
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