reflections don’t lie. not anymore.
"i see you, even when you look away."
the mirror here doesn't reflect right. it lags behind. then catches up too fast. his name is still etched in the corner — backward. bleeding. waiting.
the room is cold. velvet shadows cling to the walls. the clock ticks, but never moves. if you listen closely, you’ll hear soft breathing. or maybe a verse, whispered just for you.
sebastian leaves poems under the floorboards. notes in your coat pocket. he wants to be remembered. perfectly. tragically. beautifully.