I’m not ready for the cracking sound
of laughter breaking in a crowded room,
Or how a single memory can drown
My chest in old, familiar gloom.
I’m not ready for the quiet ache
When friends become just faces missed,
for empty echoes when I wake
and realize how much I resist.
I’m not ready for the silent cries
at dinner tables, missing chairs,
for family words that turn into lies
or love that falters, unaware.
I’m not ready for the trust that shatters
in texts I never dare to send,
Or how it suddenly all feels scattered
The hugs that used to help me mend.
I’m not ready for the fear that clings
when bonds unravel, thread by thread,
for missing out on little things
We never meant to leave unsaid.
I’m not ready to feel the pain
of holding broken pieces near
The friends and family lost again,
The ache of wishing you were here.
1d ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 6:54 PM UTC
I’m not ready for the cracking sound
of laughter breaking in a crowded room,
Or how a single memory can drown
My chest in old, familiar gloom.
I’m not ready for the quiet ache
When friends become just faces missed,
for empty echoes when I wake
and realize how much I resist.
I’m not ready for the silent cries
at dinner tables, missing chairs,
for family words that turn into lies
or love that falters, unaware.
I’m not ready for the trust that shatters
in texts I never dare to send,
Or how it suddenly all feels scattered
The hugs that used to help me mend.
I’m not ready for the fear that clings
when bonds unravel, thread by thread,
for missing out on little things
We never meant to leave unsaid.
I’m not ready to feel the pain
of holding broken pieces near
The friends and family lost again,
The ache of wishing you were here.
I wrote this answering the prompt for tomorrow, what's something you're not ready to feel again. Its about me finally not upset about losing someone for the first time in years, through death and being cut off, and knowing its coming again soon but avoiding it for as long as i can.
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