I speak, but all the walls stay still,
Your voice is gone, yet haunts me still.
The chair you used to sit in creaks—
A ghost of you in every squeak.
The air is thick, the light feels thin,
The world moved on, but I stayed in.
I fold the sheets you used to touch,
And cry for things I miss too much.
Your name is just a silent word,
A fading note I barely heard.
They say the heart will learn to mend,
But grief is not the kindest friend.
I walk past places where you smiled,
And feel again that aching child.
One moment more, that’s all I plead,
But time gives nothing that I need.
So here I sit, and here I'll stay—
A soul too tired to find its way.
Not gone, not whole, just barely stood—
A shadow left in where you stood.
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
I speak, but all the walls stay still,
Your voice is gone, yet haunts me still.
The chair you used to sit in creaks—
A ghost of you in every squeak.
The air is thick, the light feels thin,
The world moved on, but I stayed in.
I fold the sheets you used to touch,
And cry for things I miss too much.
Your name is just a silent word,
A fading note I barely heard.
They say the heart will learn to mend,
But grief is not the kindest friend.
I walk past places where you smiled,
And feel again that aching child.
One moment more, that’s all I plead,
But time gives nothing that I need.
So here I sit, and here I'll stay—
A soul too tired to find its way.
Not gone, not whole, just barely stood—
A shadow left in where you stood.
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