it hurts right where the hand tries to hold the leaking soul. a heavy, silent pulse throbbing in an empty space, fading into the dark. I used to believe that love could anchor everything, that true depth would always find a way to answer. but some silences are just too hollow, leaving a shattered heart to slowly dissolve. you look out at the fading horizon and realize you are holding on to a ghost. the light didn’t just dim; it became a heavy, physical weight of an absolute, unshared ache. the fingers press tighter into the chest, not to heal, but to feel what is left. it is a spirit on the very edge of vanishing, learning the raw, solitary craft of keeping itself alive. Year: August, 2026 Digital Art drawn in Procreate Size: 6000*9000 pixels, 300 DPI