Silent Echoes of Forgotten Spaces

It lingers in the corners of a room 

a breath that never fully exhales  

a weight that neither rises nor rests 

like the echo of old, forgotten tales.  

The spaces between words

those once heavy with meaning  

now stretch too long

like threads pulled taut  

with seams slowly splitting  

fraying and raw  

A glass left on the counter  

its rim smudged faint with time  

holds the ghost of what was once whole 

now hollow as a half-spent rhyme.  

Somewhere laughter echoes  

muffled by walls too thick for sound  

its edges frayed its heart decayed  

a melody now unbound.  

Fingers once fluent in touch  

now fumble with absence  

as if the air remembers  

what the skin cannot  

as if love were a language  

I no longer teach.  

Even the sky quiet and wide  

carries a stillness that feels too deep 

clouds drift by like silent tides

slow-moving dreams where shadows seep.  

Not broken 

just undone  

this aching heart  

unraveled by none.  

It sways in the quiet  

a ghost of the past  

waiting for whispers  

that never last.