Yellow bleeds into empty space,
Fingers trace what’s forgotten—
Light bends, but doesn’t reach,
No warmth, no trace.
The wind erases what it touches,
Thoughts drift, lost in air.
Inside, a silence stretches,
Where words once lived.
A river fades,
But whispers crash—
Water turns to dust,
Silent in my chest.
A name, a face—
They slip like smoke,
Dissolving into nothing
I cannot grasp.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 7:06 AM UTC
Yellow bleeds into empty space,
Fingers trace what’s forgotten—
Light bends, but doesn’t reach,
No warmth, no trace.
The wind erases what it touches,
Thoughts drift, lost in air.
Inside, a silence stretches,
Where words once lived.
A river fades,
But whispers crash—
Water turns to dust,
Silent in my chest.
A name, a face—
They slip like smoke,
Dissolving into nothing
I cannot grasp.
Request permission to use this poem