Elohi
Your writer is lazy. A chaotic soul who thinks her words are trash. But somehow… She writes your fears, your secrets, your truths. She lights up the dark, even when she’s drowning in it. She knows too much, feels too much, and maybe… She’s just scared to reach further. Still? She’s that writer. Badass. Broken. Brilliant. And she’s not done.
Latest posts from Nocturne
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33 FLOORS
He was born into a house with no light. A father who vanished without goodbye. A mother who came home smelling of strangers and perfume, and who carried her anger like a whip. At night, she learned to keep her door shut. During the day, she learned that silence was safer than speaking. Her brothers, supposed to protect her, became the reason she dreaded breathing. When she told her mother, the …
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I Was Dead the First Time
They buried me crooked the first time. Head tilted west, no light. I remember, because I didn’t stay gone. Now I walk again same skin, new pulse, But the same ghosts are crawling under my fingernails. Ezra. That's what they call me this time. The boy who doesn't blink. A boy who mutters riddles. A boy who draws coffins better than faces. My mother avoids my eyes. She says they’re too old fo…
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Bishop's Daughter
They said I was born into light. Bathed in prophecy. Raised in scripture, dressed in silence, taught that holiness is a woman who never hungers. But no one warned me what it felt like to be touched with intention. To be looked at like I wasn’t just a body, but a place. Somewhere he wanted to worship. He came in the night. Not loudly just a knock on my soul I couldn’t unhear. His voice wasn’t deep…
