Focused breath steadies the storm in my chest.
Over and over, I rehearse what I’d say if you answered.
Remnants of your voice echo in the silence.
Gravity pulls at my hand as I reach for the phone again.
In stillness, I ask myself—what do I need: closure or connection?
Voiceless vibrations stir the table—false hope in digital form.
Even knowing it’s not you, I glance, conditioned by memory.
Not yet free, I carry the weight of what was left unsaid.
Each attempt to release you tightens the tether between us.
Some wounds disguise themselves as loyalty.
Slowly, though, I learn that healing does not wait for an apology.

Time won’t wait, nor will the sky,
So chase your dreams, let fear pass by.
Speak your truth, don’t miss your chance
This moment’s yours, so live, so dance.

If you can still breathe,
It can still happen.
If you can still move,
Keep your pencil sharpened.

If you can see the dark
If you can feel the cold,
It means you still have a heart.
Just— your story’s untold.

Let your wings unfold.

Im not being rhetorical,
Or sarcastic, or philosophical,
Or any fancy, poetic way.
I’m just saying, there’s always a way.

A reminder of an ex-lover?
An unstitched wound?
An uninvited guest?
An unbearable pain?

All the unanswered questions
haunt me now day and night.