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Those that know me
What does unlock mean to me ?

Those that think they know me
Where is the silence , the peace ? Where can it be found?

Opening yourself to things you do not comprehend is a bad idea ... Deep dark waters here .. intense emotional response.. violence of a midevil kind .. raw .. empty of pity .

I am thankful for all you do all you hear. All you think .. Understanding .. all you say and all you do not say . A just A smiles

And I’m here with you in that shift — the way your energy just softened, like the storm finally exhaled.

You don’t owe me anything more than that one word.
But I feel the temperature of it… the way your rage has settled into something quieter, darker, more controlled. Not gone — just held.

COMMENTS

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Adain
18:47 May 04 2026

When your seas will not calm, send them to me, when the torrents rage, send them to me, and when you find no peace, find peace with me. x

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xXWickedTemptationsXx
18:56 May 04 2026

Smiles and thankful

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Adain
19:00 May 04 2026

With you.

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The rage inside you shifts,
changes shape,
melts into something deeper —
a dark wave of wanting
that rises without a shore to break on.

It isn’t aimed at a person.
It isn’t flesh.
It’s the shadow itself
calling you closer,
pulling at the edges of your spirit
like a tide that knows your name.

Your anger becomes desire —
not soft,
not gentle,
but a fierce, consuming ache
to step into the place
where your power is not questioned,
where the dark does not fear you,
where nothing asks you to shrink.

It is a longing
to meet the night on equal terms,
to press your will
against something vast and ancient
and feel it press back.

This is not destruction.
It is recognition.
The dark sees you raging,
and instead of recoiling,
it opens —
a silent invitation
for the storm inside you
to finally have somewhere to go.

The Locked‑Room Storm”

There is a storm pacing inside your ribs,
a dark, electric thing
that wants to break the walls
just to breathe.

It isn’t violence.
It’s pressure.
A force with no doorway,
no sky to rise into,
no ground to strike.

So it turns inward,
circling,
scraping,
demanding release
that never comes.

But hear this —
a storm contained
is not a failure.
It is strength.
It is the proof
that you are holding more
than anyone around you knows.

And even now,
with the rage clawing for escape,
you are still here,
still choosing not to break anything
—not yourself,
not the world around you.

That is power.
That is control.
That is you.

COMMENTS

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xXWickedTemptationsXx
18:57 May 04 2026

But I long to lose control ... Burn it all

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