The Ruin Script

a vessel of verses,
a mind stitched in stanzas.
a soul that wanders to speak,
where silence shaped her book.
who is she?
achilleus deirdre.
she writes not to impress,
but to express her echoes.
each line holds an ache,
echoes she couldn’t escape.
poetry, free verse, and narratives,
are not mere forms of confessions—
they are her veins.
after years of stillness,
she returns—
a pen between her fingers,
and truth that bleeds in verses.

author’s note:
— bled by @achilleusdeirdre
— twenty-third of june, year 2025
— open to criticism; all echoes welcome.
— lowercase intended for signature writing.