I track you through rooms of memory,
your laughter caught like scent on the wind.
Every echo a soft hoofprint,
every silence a trail gone cold.
Love is the creature that doubles back
a shimmer in tall grass,
the sound of your name swallowed by dusk.
I have chased you through years,
through letters unopened, through sleep.
You appear in the corner of my eye,
a blur of warmth and maybe.
When I turn,
only my own heartbeat answers.
The ground gives nothing.
The air is heavy with what almost was.
And still I lift the bow,
aim at the ghost of your smile
knowing it is the missing
that keeps me alive.
About the Creator
E. C. Mira
I’m a poet at heart, always chasing the quiet moments and turning them into words. Most of what I write is poetry, but every now and then inspiration pulls me in new directions.
www.poetrybyecmira.com
Keep reading
More stories from E. C. Mira and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Ground does not deserve you
There are places you return to out of habit, not belonging. Rooms that once held you because you didn’t yet know you had the right to leave. People who mistook your endurance for agreement, your silence for consent, your presence for loyalty. Coming back to the ground with clarity means seeing all of it without the old fog softening the edges. You stand in the doorway of your own life and realize that some of the ground you’ve been walking on was never meant to hold your weight.
By Elisa Wontorcik7 days ago in Poets
Let's Don't Do This
"I just can't do this anymore..." "Do what?" What can't you do? Put gas in your own car? I swear to God you make me take care of everything, don't you? You know I'm on my way to work right now but that never stops you from bothering me, does it?"
By Shirley Belk7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.