MOMENTARY LINES: When the Soul Withdrew

There was a time the figure could speak, could feel. But the world grew too loud, and no one listened. Slowly, the soul retreated — not with a scream, but a hush.

The mouth vanished. The eyes dimmed. The hands, once reaching out, now only held the heavy head, trying to remember what it felt like to be whole.

Now it sits — silent, faceless — not gone, just emptied. A quiet monument to the pain of being unseen.

ink on paper