The snow falls quieter than memory,
like the sky is afraid to speak.
Five years later
and February still remembers.
The roof is still there.
Still.
As if nothing ever happened,
as if no one stood that high
with too much weight in their chest
and nowhere left to stand.
It was the last time it snowed until now
five years later
Every flake that falls now
feels like an echo
like he comes back
in white, calmness and silence.
I walk through streets that say nothing
but know everything.
My breath hangs in the cold
the way his name once did
in conversations that ended
before they could begin.
Snow covers what hurts,
but it never erases it.
It keeps it.
February and this snow makes me remember.
Because the cold whispers
that he is here,
between the falling snow,
in that moment
where everything stops.
They call it winter.
I call it a curse
that returns every year
Your sister looks at me like im part of before
Our bond will never be the same
But i cling to the snow
It's you saying hi.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 4:16 PM UTC
The snow falls quieter than memory,
like the sky is afraid to speak.
Five years later
and February still remembers.
The roof is still there.
Still.
As if nothing ever happened,
as if no one stood that high
with too much weight in their chest
and nowhere left to stand.
It was the last time it snowed until now
five years later
Every flake that falls now
feels like an echo
like he comes back
in white, calmness and silence.
I walk through streets that say nothing
but know everything.
My breath hangs in the cold
the way his name once did
in conversations that ended
before they could begin.
Snow covers what hurts,
but it never erases it.
It keeps it.
February and this snow makes me remember.
Because the cold whispers
that he is here,
between the falling snow,
in that moment
where everything stops.
They call it winter.
I call it a curse
that returns every year
Your sister looks at me like im part of before
Our bond will never be the same
But i cling to the snow
It's you saying hi.
