nathan91
I don’t know if this is the place for a little poetic theme. Feels like I need to get this out.
Eighteen Months
Eighteen months ago, something in me went quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that heals.
The kind that hollows.
I have buried people I loved
and grieved them true,
but nothing prepared me for this.
A loss with no casket, no ceremony,
just an absence that keeps unpacking its bags
and staying.
I keep waiting for the version of me
that laughs without checking first
if it’s allowed to.
I don’t know if he’s coming back.
I only know I’m still here,
still breathing through the parts
that don’t make sense yet.
