where my voice turned into storms,
calling your name
like it could pull you back to me.
The walls heard everything
the shaking in my chest,
the prayers that broke apart
before they even reached the sky.
I blamed myself
for every silence,
every wound,
every goodbye that lived between us.
I wondered if love alone
was not enough to make someone stay.
There were days
I could not leave my bed,
where the ceiling became the only witness
to how hard a heart can grieve.
No water touched my lips.
No food could stay.
Only tearss
endless tears
until exhaustion forced my eyes shut.
And when morning came,
the pain woke up before I did.
I screamed quietly after that,
the kind of scream
that never leaves the mouth,
only echoes inside the ribs.
I prayed to God
with trembling hands,
asking Him
why losing someone
could feel like losing myself too.
But somewhere between those nights,
between the broken prayers
and the aching loneliness,
I survived another sunrise.
Not because I was strong,
but because hearts, somehow,
keep beating
even after they shatter.
And maybe one day
I will remember those nights
without drowning in them.
Maybe one day
my name will stop sounding guilty
inside my own head.
Maybe one day
the girl who cried herself to sleep
will finally rest
without blaming herself
for being human.
