The Beads on My Wrist — Ayuna Dark Verse (Diary Entry 1) | The Bloody Tulip

Not trophies, I tell myself,
Not trophies—
Just anchors,
Stones I thread to keep myself
From drowning in what I could become.
Each bead a name
I’ll never speak out loud,
Each bead a moment
I chose control.

I touch them when the night gets loud,
When something inside me
Starts clawing at the walls,
When the world shows its ugliness
And something feral in my chest
Begs me to answer back.

Memory is discipline.
I count them like prayers,
Press the cold beads
Against the fever in my hand.
If balance is just breathing steady,
These are the weights
That keep me grounded,
That keep me from becoming
What they fear I am.

I don’t beg gods for help.
I sharpen my edges instead.
I starve the howl inside me
With something harder than mercy.
But sometimes in the window’s reflection
I catch a glimpse—
A gallery of moments,
Petals blooming red.

Then morning comes.
I pull on my white coat,
Tuck the bracelet where my pulse runs quiet.
Not trophies, no—
Just anchors I carry
To keep the storm inside me
From breaking loose.

If this ends in ruin,
At least I tried to hold it back.
At least I tried.

📂 Referenced Leak:

🌒 From Diary Entry 1 – The Illusion of Balance

📖 Referenced Stories:

Pulse of Desperation: The Bloody Tulip – Part 1

Shadows of Betrayal: The Bloody Tulip – Part 2

👉 » Return to The Insider’s Files