I lie in stillness—not to be seen, but to be felt. My black hair spills like ink across white silence; a red hairpin glows faintly, the only heartbeat in the dark. This isn’t photography. It’s a soul’s whisper: loneliness carved into posture, vulnerability made visible through light and shadow. If you look close, do you hear it too? The quiet wasn’t empty—it was full of everything unsaid.

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SakuraIris7

Personal introduction