note from bruiser

summer 2025

i folded the nights into a small wooden box,
wrapped in silence and dust,
where the glow of the screen couldn’t reach.

these are the quiet fractures,
the whispered ghosts i never dared name aloud,
pressed beneath my fingertips,
waiting for someone to hold still enough to hear.

open it slow,
like the last light slipping under the door.

— bruiser