there's a photograph we don't look at anymore
not because we forgot
but because remembering feels like swallowing glass

it's tucked in the drawer beside the broken charger
the old watch that still ticks
and the letter you never finished
half a sentence half a goodbye

grief doesn't arrive with thunder
it comes in the quiet
in the way your name still autofills
in the way the wind knocks on windows like you used to

people say time heals
but time just teaches you how to walk
with a hole inside you
wide enough for a life that won't come back

some nights i still leave the porch light on
not because i believe you're coming home
but because love - real love
doesn't know how to stop hoping