Days move like smoke Shifting, Slipping, Intangible Dreams that I have clutched so tightly Have unraveled in my hands And I wonder if they were ever mine Or just borrowed stories I was too afraid to rewrite Change comes quietly Like a tide rising in the dark Washing away all that once was.
Some endings are not always loud Some you donβt notice until theyβre already gone This strange middle ground Is not the version that I imagined
I am bruised but still standing I am lost but still walking And when I arrive , it will be a shedding Layer by layer Until I am bare And afraid And free.