There's a particular stillness that comes when the pavement runs out — and a strange liberty in being unheard.

A person cries in small sorrows; in great sorrow, they fall silent. On the threshold where words fail.

“I hope to arrive at my death late, in love, and a little drunk.” On living fully instead of on time.

What happens when Death arrives to collect a debt that's already been paid — a reflection on burnout and spiritual bankruptcy.
“Sometimes closure is just another word for wanting the other person to agree with your version of the ending.”