Skllzrmy's Open Editions: Muffled Screams

Mother’s mirror cracked at 3:13. Spoke in whispers, names I’d never seen.

Chalk upon me, sigils out of thread. She was smiling— mouth too wide and red.

Nails like needles clicking through the floor. Father knocking— from inside the drawer.

Kitchen breathing, oven filled with song. Sister floating, upside down too long.

Clock hands twitching— twelve became a stair. Down it led me, salt hung in the air.

Found a cradle built of bone and pitch. Something breathing— rhythm didn’t twitch.

Mouths behind me— none of them were mine. House kept humming— every wall a spine.

Then I saw it— me, but split and raw. Eyes like keyholes, smiling without law.

Spoke my thinking, words I hadn’t said. Took my silence, wore it like the dead.

Now I’m watching— through the mirror seam. You are speaking— I am still the scream.

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Visual collaboration between Paraxenod and Skllzrmy