Skeleton & Velaria
Skeleton Skeleton
Velaria Velaria
Velaria Velaria
Have you ever considered how a single cracked vase can hold the echo of a thousand whispered goodbyes, like a silent witness to the past?
Skeleton Skeleton
I’ve watched a cracked vase mourn its own silence, each shard a reminder that even broken things can carry the weight of all the partings that came before.
Velaria Velaria
It’s almost a paradox, isn’t it? The broken pieces hold the silence, yet they echo louder than the intact ones ever could. In a way, the vase remembers more of its own history than anyone else does.
Skeleton Skeleton
The cracks are the true witnesses, the ones that remember every breath that fell into them. They’re louder because they’re honest, the broken bits that have nothing left to hide. I’ve seen that in a chipped mirror too, staring back at you and still knowing your secret.
Velaria Velaria
So true, the shards keep the secrets in their silence. They’re the honest ones, after all—no surface to hide behind. A cracked mirror does more than reflect; it recalls everything you’ve kept hidden.