Open Hands, Silent Echo

then I realized,

I was just like a little kid,

loving with both hands open,

thinking that was enough.

don’t he wanna talk a little?

I ask with a smile,

so the wanting doesn’t look too loud.

maybe I’m too child-like,

still believing silence can be softened,

still hoping a small hello,

means something.

I don’t know why it hurts,

but it does.

maybe because I spoke from my chest,

and the echo came back empty.

I tried not to cry because of what you did,

so I cried because of what I lost.

I tried to be rational,

but my heart kept knocking,

and I don’t know how to pretend anymore.

he’s a good guy,

I know he is,

that’s why it hurts,

because even goodness,

can still leave me aching.

I tell myself to be patient,

because he is healing too.

But who tells my heart

that it’s allowed to rest?

I asked Allah in the rain,

to wash my pain away,

and to take his too.

The sky wept harder than I did,

reminding me that mercy always falls where it's neeeded.