i went to the terrace today, like always,
where silence drapes the evening in gold.
but today, the sky was different.
hollow blue, fading grey.
no pinks, no purples, no warmth in the light,
just a thin orange thread barely holding on.
the air felt heavy, everything stood still,
and in that pause, something pulled.
something i had buried, but never killed.
i wasn't searching, i wasn't calling,
yet it came.
familiar, sudden, true.
the love i once belonged to.
and then it hit me like a bullet,
like a name i swore not to say.
i wasn’t mourning the ending, nor the ashes
but the man who had faded away.
i fell.
dust clung to my hands, my knees.
but nothing felt real
except bleeding for a ghost i swore i had left.
i swore i had buried this sorrow deep,
i swore he was gone, cold and dead.
yet here i was,
breaking for someone long since fled.
the sky turned black.
silent & vast.
the orange line flickered, then disappeared.
and for a second, i thought this was it,
this was all that remained.
but then
a star.
then another.
then another still.
the same sky that swallowed me whole
was now stitched back with a soft light.
the grief remained, but so did something else,
something small, something bright.
perhaps the sun won’t rise the same,
perhaps the dead will always call.
but maybe, just maybe,
i’ve learned to hear them
without letting them take me, too.
maybe i am not mourning anymore.
just remembering.
without breaking.
and maybe, just maybe
not everything fades.
some things just change their light
to stay.