Whispers Between Pages By Astrum
I have always trusted the quiet of untold stories, the soft ache that lingers between what is written and what is merely felt.
I do not chase endings — I unfold them, slowly, like paper worn thin by longing and hands that know the weight of memory.
Somewhere between ink and skin, I found my truest voice — not to speak louder, but to listen deeper to the words that choose to find me first.
Yet before it all happens, we both jump into the ocean As we're going deeper under the blue water his heart still beats in vivid red But the depth of the ocean is a secret nobody can tell Nobody including myself.