Awakening to a cold dawn a breathless shadow lingers
The sheets still remembers the weight of your soul
Where you once slumbered on the left side of the bed
Now only a hollow where a thief stole your smile
And the darkness runs a mile whispering your name
But silence answers the ghost of your laughter…
Reaching for it but only clutching air
Rated for Everyone
Clutching Air
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Summary:
memories
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There’s a gentle ache in these lines. How absence becomes its own kind of weight, and the morning light makes it impossible to ignore. This one pulled my heartstrings, Atticus.
Thank you, Curly. I actually scribbled this in a dream, that awoke me in the night.