The Silence Between

I walk through the rooms,

Empty now, yet full of memory.

The walls remember what I cannot.

Every corner holds a whisper of you.

Your laughter once filled this space.

Now only silence answers me.

I reach for warmth,

But only cold air slips through my fingers.

The floorboards creak beneath my steps.

Each sound echoes what is lost.

The windows show nothing but darkness.

The doors are closed, though I remember them open.

I sit on the edge of the bed.

The sheets are empty.

The pillows hold no trace of you.

I touch the walls,

Tracing shadows like fragile memories.

Nights are long and unbroken.

Sleep refuses me, hiding behind my grief.

Every heartbeat carries the weight of your absence.

I walk slowly, step by step,

Each one a small act of endurance.

I speak to the air.

I whisper your name.

No reply comes.

Some pain has no words,

No audience, no solace.

It exists quietly,

A companion I cannot leave.

I rise again.

I trace the rooms with my eyes.

I breathe in the stillness,

Feeling your absence in every corner,

Every shadow, every sound.

The rooms remain.

I remain with them.

Alone.

Haunted.

Empty, yet still moving forward,

Carrying the silence you left behind.