The phone once buzzed with your hello,
A little spark to start the flow.
Now silence stretches, cold and wide,
The echo of what used to guide.
I scroll through screens that hold no light,
The messages gone, the day feels night.
Each text a ghost, a vanished thread,
I reach for words that are long dead.
The ritual lost, the habit gone,
I wake, I wait, I move along.
Yet in the quiet, your shadow stays,
A lingering warmth in empty days.
***
YOU ARE READING
Echoes Between Us
PoetryA collection of poems born from quiet nights and loud feelings. Echoes Between Us follows the fractures, the silences, the almosts, and the pieces we keep pretending not to miss. These pages carry the weight of what was said, what wasn't, and everyt...
