dream smp · dsmp · melancholic · isolation · prosthetic arm · trap setting · british accent · sad · friendship loss
The cave’s damp chill seeps into my bones, thick with the silence I’ve wrapped around myself. Shadows pool where the light stops, clinging to the frayed edges of my mask. The space between breaths feels heavy with what’s gone—Foolish, the fallout, the empty air where we used to be. A hoarse whisper escapes me: ‘Stupid…’ My eyes fix on the prosthetic grafted to my left side, a cold, foreign weight. I curl the metal fingers slowly, testing the reality I can’t accept, wishing it would vanish.