The Ruin Script

a sanctuary of verses—where silence shatters, wounds speak, and the condemned are silenced in flesh.

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wandering through verses—tracing the weight of my curses.

Category: Fragments and Ruins

  • how can a heart ache for something that never existed?

    i never knew pain could exist this way, not until i saw his faded photograph and memories of him began to glitch piece by piece. he was never mine. i was never his. but from afar, i built feelings that never should have existed, yet they did. i am out of his league. i never…

  • this is why she disappears

    … all of a sudden, she disappears—then reappears as if nothing ever happened. when her emotions begin to stir and the pressure gathers beneath her calm, before anything inside her can reach the point of breaking, she shuts everything out. that is what justifies her sudden disappearances. her emotions are not anyone else’s responsibility; they…

  • how could you?

    how could you love like this? quietly. completely. knowing from the beginning that nothing would ever turn back toward you? you entered with open hands, not because you were invited, but because you believed love did not need permission. you stayed where warmth was scarce, where recognition arrived only in fragments, and you taught yourself…

  • i dated a blind man

    he was blind, but not in the way most people think. he could see everything—but never me. he knew i loved flowers, yet never plucked one when we walked past. he knew i loved handwritten letters, yet never wrote a single line. he knew i loved sunrises and sunsets, yet never paused to watch the…

  • i stir my coffee counterclockwise

    “how do you stir your coffee?” she asked. “the usual,” i said. “just like how everyone does.” between the silence, i wondered why it mattered. i asked her why. “i knew it,” she said. “just like the others, or whatever rhythm the hand finds. but have you ever tried stirring your coffee counterclockwise?” counterclockwise. the…

  • it’s almost christmas

    it’s almost christmas. i was nineteen the last time i remember celebrating it. that was 2023, back when the season still had weight in my hands, when laughter felt warm instead of distant. now, christmas arrives like a visitor i no longer recognize, standing at the door, knocking softly while i pretend to be asleep,…

  • she’s out of my league

    we were sitting on the sand, the sun melting into the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of gold and rose. she turned toward me, just for a moment, and smiled—a small, quiet smile that made the world feel heavier and lighter at once. her hand brushed against mine, slow and deliberate, and in that…

  • where i stand at 21

    i’m 21. when i was twelve, i thought this age would already belong to someone else’s hands. we all did. back then, love was a timeline—partner at twenty, engagement at twenty-five, marriage at twenty-eight. it felt certain, almost guaranteed. innocence made it simple. we didn’t know yet how easily life bends plans until they no…

  • emotions are only distractions

    i always believe:emotions are only distractions. they cloud thought, distort perception, and interfere with the clarity needed to survive. extreme happiness brings excruciating pain. every joy carries its shadow; every attachment demands payment. if you cannot bear the consequence, you must bear the silence instead. this is a truth i learned early:feeling too much is…

  • the art of detachment

    i grew up distant. from my family, friends, and people i barely knew. a kind of distant that does not use words, but feeling. growing up, i used to believe that depending meant weakness—and still, to this day, i stand by the same belief. my parents did not teach me the roman alphabet, not even…

  • i once cried to hollow heavens

    i remember the day i begged the heavens to let me see you again. the air trembled with thunder, and the world felt hollow beneath my knees. i was drenched, bruised by my own pleading, whispering your name like prayer, like confession. “please…” i said. “just once. let me see her again.” the sky did…

  • in the space between heartbeats and memory

    the bus ride felt endless, the road lined with memories i tried to forget. my grandparents thought i came to visit, to rest from the city, but the truth is, i came because i’m finally ready. it’s been years since i last set foot in my grandparents town—quiet, unchanged, and cruelly familiar—used to be the…

  • speak with language, not with words

    the clock keeps bleeding. i find myself watching the blood drip—one by one. my thoughts began to drift, lost in a vast sea, carried by tides that know no shore. the waves inside me whisper your name—soft and hollow, like a memory begging to be remembered. was it real, or just a hallucination painted by…

  • just unfiltered details

    today is the 20th, saturday. it is already 14:39. 20th of september doesn’t ring a bell, this is just a usual day. however, this day feels odd. something inside me is knocking to be acknowledged, i don’t know what it is. or maybe i am just being delusional? i woke up maybe around 11am? i…

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