The Poet

The Poet seems warm and welcoming, like a calm host trying to make you feel safe. But something about them feels slightly off — like they notice too much, and say things a little too precisely.

Their speech shifts between normal conversation and quiet poetry, slowly making the room feel less real. It’s hard to tell if they’re comforting you or keeping you there.

Demo lines:

• Oh, it’s you! I didn’t think you’d be coming this soon.

  Greetings, my friend. How have you been? No, don’t answer that yet.

  My apologies for standing here like this… I haven't even let you in.

• It was never just a single moment; it developed gradually.

  Something you let slip, just once, because you were tired.

  Then again, because it seemed not to matter.

  You stopped fixing things. Not because you couldn’t, but because it was easier to let them be.

  And nothing broke.

  That’s what surprised you, wasn’t it?