Her silence fractured — not in a scream, but in a bloom. Cracked earth pulls from her lips as if nature insisted on speaking. Flowers grow where the voice once hesitated. This is not beauty in spite of ruin — it is beauty because of it.
Her silence fractured — not in a scream, but in a bloom. Cracked earth pulls from her lips as if nature insisted on speaking. Flowers grow where the voice once hesitated. This is not beauty in spite of ruin — it is beauty because of it.