Beneath the weight of the moment,
fractured seconds linger like echoes,
etched into the hollows of my mind.
Most things dissolve,
consumed by the hungry tides of forgetting,
but not this—
not the way you made me feel.
Small.
Insignificant.
The air stolen from my lungs
as life unraveled, thread by thread.
I lay there,
the world shrinking,
your gaze an avalanche,
your silence a knife.
It wasn’t the darkness that stayed—
it was the sharpness of being
discarded, diminished, erased.
I will not forget.
The universe has ways
of balancing its scales.
And when it does,
may you feel what I felt—
every fragment of it.
