As time fades,
so does your memory.
The image of you slips quietly from my mind—
forgotten like a dream after dawn.

The sweet taste of your love
now lingers bitter,
a distant flavor
I no longer crave.

As days pass,
your place in my heart
is slowly taken
by someone new.

They don’t rush in—
they come with one foot at the door,
treading softly,
respecting the remnants of you
left scattered around.

With gentle hands,
they begin to heal.
They bend the broken edges,
cure the cracks,
and piece me back together.

They open the doors of my heart—
doors that resisted,
heavy with your shadow.
But now,
those rooms echo with a different voice.

They clean the corners where your memory hid.
And now,
the space is full of them.

The heart must go on.
The past is lost.
And maybe,
that’s how you stop loving someone—
not by forgetting,
but by making space
for something new
to grow.