In the stillness,
the silence is a room
with no door, no window—
only the echo of what was
fading into what will never be.
Heartbreak is not a wound,
but the space it leaves
between the breath and the ache,
where time dissolves
and memory is a shadow
that never quite catches the light.
We carry it like a stone
in the recesses of our mind,
knowing it’s not the weight
but the way it shifts
with every step—
a subtle reminder
of what was lost,
and what remains unseen.
