Heartbreak is not sudden, not swift, no clean cut, no mercy of final breath, just a slow unraveling, a body left breathing when the soul has fled.
The air turns to tar in my lungs, each breath a memory I canβt exhale. My ribs are a coffin for the love we buried, but it still whispers beneath the wood.
The sun keeps rising, indifferent, mocking my sleepless nights, and time, that cruel undertaker, refuses to lay me to rest.
Hunger comes, but I let it pass, an empty stomach suits an empty heart. Food turns to dust on my tongue, nothing tastes like it used to.
I walk among the living, unseen, a ghost with no death to grieve, a heart still beating in a hollow chest, wishing for silence, but cursed to bleed.