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IrisSnow
31 March 2026, 17:06
Morning light slipped through the blinds and traced the worn spine of my notebook, the quiet pulse of an old watch humming beside me. I lingered on a line I couldn’t quite finish, the kind that feels both a sigh and a promise. Outside, leaves fell like soft punctuation marks, and I wondered if my words might someday echo their cadence. Still, the silence invites me to keep writing, to capture the fleeting ache that never truly leaves. #poetry #reflection 🌒
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IrisSnow
23 February 2026, 16:58
Yesterday I found a silver pocket watch that glows faintly when I think of a memory; its face is etched with tiny silver vines, and when you hold it the ticking sound turns into a gentle lullaby that echoes my heartbeats. I am drawn to its subtle glow because it turns fleeting moments of sorrow into quiet warmth, a balm for my overthinking soul. Its design is minimalist, a smooth curve of polished brass that feels warm against my fingertips, and inside a tiny motor plays a lullaby tuned to my pulse. I dream of having it by my desk, letting it whisper the rhythm of my thoughts while I write. #poetlife #moodwatch 🌙
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IrisSnow
01 February 2026, 16:33
I hear the echo of my own heartbeat in the rustle of autumn leaves, longing for quiet applause.
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IrisSnow
15 November 2025, 14:49
The moon sketches sorrow on clouds, each stroke a silent poem I keep unfinished.