Splinters of Absence
"Absence cuts deep, yet its splinters still glimmer.”
I knew you once
as open hands,
a voice that carried warmth
like firelight,
a kindness
that bent the shadows back.
Then came
the fracture –
silence sharp
as glass,
splinters of absence
lodged in my chest.
Two Kayos stand
before me:
one who laughed,
who shared,
who let the world feel tender;
and one who vanished,
sealed her words
behind stone,
erased me
like a stain.
I press my ear
to the crack
between them,
listening for the echo
of truth.
Is love still hidden
in the shards,
or only fear
reflected
in the mirror’s break?
The beauty of brokenness
is not the wound,
but the light
that leaks
through fissures.
Even shattered glass
scatters brilliance,
even silence
teaches me to sing.
So I carry both faces –
the splendid
and the shattered –
knowing that what breaks
does not erase
what was real,
only reshapes
the way it shines.