"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys
"This is not a chapter "
I woke to a sharp kick in the ribs.
Max.
The idiot had stretched out again, his stupid six-foot frame taking over the entire bed. I hit the floor with a thud, groaning. For a second, I considered strangling him right there, but instead I shoved my foot into his shin. He grunted, rolled over, and kept snoring. Typical.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I did what I had to do, splashed some water on my face, and then returned to bed. Sleep, however, refused to come back.
The ceiling felt lower tonight. The shadows heavier. My mind louder.
With a sigh, I pushed myself outside.
The night air was sharp and cool. Smoke lingered in the breeze, faint but there, the last breath of all the fires that had burned too brightly yesterday. The street was eerily silent, only broken lamps and dark houses staring back at me. Above, the sky was sealed with thick clouds—no stars, no moon. Just a suffocating, gray lid.
And that's when I thought of them.
My parents.
I tried to picture them still on their vacation—laughing, relaxed, sitting by some pool. But the images slipped, warped. My mom's laugh twisted into a scream. My dad's steady voice fading into silence. Their smiles cracking into fear. Their hands limp, bodies broken, lying somewhere like those we'd seen earlier today.
My chest tightened.
I pulled out my phone. Tried calling. "No Service."
Once.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The harder I tried, the louder the silence became.
What if they were gone?
What if I never saw them again?
What if my last words to them had been something stupid? Did I even tell them I loved them before they left?
The thoughts piled faster, heavier. My throat felt tight, like a rope was pulling tighter with each "what if."
What if the government never came?
What if yesterday was just the beginning?
What if the world was actually ending?
My breaths came shorter. Shallow. My chest burned.
I pressed a hand against it, but it didn't help. My vision blurred at the edges, the dark street tilting, shaking. My phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the porch. My heart slammed against my ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to break free.
I couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop imagining their faces—dead, gone, lost. The world collapsing. Everyone disappearing. Myself alone, suffocating under the weight of it all.
"No, no, no, no…" My voice cracked, weak, desperate. I curled forward, forehead pressing against my knees. My hands trembled against my temples.
My skin prickled with sweat even as the night air bit cold. My whole body shook, my breaths short and sharp. I tried inhaling, but it felt like I was choking on air.
Is this it? Am I dying?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything. It was too fast, too heavy, too much.
Minutes—though they felt like hours—passed. Somehow, slowly, the panic ebbed. My breaths stretched a little longer. My heartbeat eased, still rapid but not crushing. My vision steadied. My trembling fingers dug into the porch wood, anchoring me.
I inhaled once, deep and shaky. Then another. Then another.
Finally, I let it all out in one long exhale.
And when my eyes opened—everything changed.
The clouds were gone.
The sky stretched wide and alien. The moon loomed impossibly close, enormous and blue, glowing like an immortal lantern hung too low. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, spilling light that made the ruins shimmer with an otherworldly beauty.
The stars… there were too many. A river of them, endless, burning in colors I couldn't even name. They trembled, shimmered, and for a heartbeat I thought they were falling, ready to rain down upon us.
My breath caught again—but this time, not from panic. From awe.
It was terrifying, yes. Wrong. Unfamiliar. But it was also beautiful. More beautiful than anything I thought the night sky could hold.
And I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that I would never forget this sight. Not in a week, not in a year, not even if the world truly ended.
"I slowly whisper under my breath"
The clouds broke open,
and for a moment the world forgot its wounds.
Above me hung a moon,
too near, too vast,
its skin tinged in a blue
that felt as if it had been stolen from eternity itself.
Stars spilled like shattered glass across the dark,
too numerous, too luminous,
as if heaven had cracked
and allowed their mysteries to spill into our sky.
I could not breathe,
yet not from fear,
rather from a beauty so intense
it pierced deeper than any sorrow.
It was a sight not meant for mortal eyes,
a truth too heavy for my heart to bear.
yet,
I knew I would carry it always,
the eternal moon
the drowning stars,
a sky that belonged
to the new world.
*Author note*
How was the poem guys