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Whispers Between Pages By Astrum
I have always trusted the quiet of untold stories, the soft ache that lingers between what is written and what is merely felt.
I do not chase endings — I unfold them, slowly, like paper worn thin by longing and hands that know the weight of memory.
Somewhere between ink and skin, I found my truest voice — not to speak louder, but to listen deeper to the words that choose to find me first.