Scotty's Silent Agony Shorts

Even silence has a cost.

Scotty reaches upward, jawless and hollow-eyed, cigarette smoldering between his fingers—desperate to grasp something more, yet chained to the weight below. Printed in high detail on heavyweight fabric, this design captures a fleeting moment between collapse and denial. Just the top of his skull emerges, half-buried in the shadows of his own mind.

These shorts echo the poem stitched into their identity—a portrait of quiet suffering, of nights spent drinking to forget and smoking to silence the mirror. This isn’t just apparel. It’s a worn routine. A ritual of sorrow.

For those who’ve ever waited for the bottle to speak back.

Scotty’s Silent Agony shorts poem

Alone in the static hum
of night, I drink to quiet the ghosts,
smoke to silence the mirror.
My ribs show more than bone,
they show the cost of feeling too much
and saying too little.

Laughter once lived here.
Now, I sip sorrow like routine,
waiting for the bottle to speak back.
Even silent screams,
when you've run out of lies
to tell yourself.