ECHOES OF ABSENCE

 

Echoes of AbsenceLet it be, let it be, I whisper like a mantra in the quiet hours,
A desperate incantation to shatter the monotony of my days,
To reroute the paths my mind wanders, dodging the spectral traces
Of your lingering presence, those invisible snares that trip my heart
Into aching remembrance. Yet, inevitably, I collide with your shadow,
Clumsy as a sleepwalker in the velvet dark, groping through corridors
Of memory, slamming into phantom walls that echo with your laughter,
Your touch, your voice—ghostly barriers erected in the dead of night
While I stumble toward the bathroom, one eye cracked against the void,
The other sealed in denial, pretending the dawn might erase you.I am not navigating this void with grace; no, I falter, I fracture,
Each step a confession of my unraveling, my composure a fragile veneer
Cracking under the weight of what was lost. Your absence is a thief,
Stealing the colors from sunrises, muting the symphony of city streets,
Infusing every breath with a hollow echo, a question unanswered:
Why does the world persist in its indifferent spin when you've slipped away?
My truth seeps through the seams of my existence, unbidden and raw,
Staining conversations with unspoken regrets, tainting laughter with sorrow,
Leaking into the coffee I sip alone, the books I pretend to read,
The walks I take to nowhere, hoping distance might dilute the pain.Unable to anchor myself in the present, I drift like a leaf on restless winds,
Half-hearted in the here and now, my senses dulled, my spirit adrift,
Watching moments unfold like fragile petals from a flower I can't quite grasp.
I linger on the periphery of life, a spectator to my own unfolding story,
Yearning for the alchemy of time to forge new memories from the ashes,
To weave fresh threads into this tattered tapestry of days without you.
But still, your ghost whispers in the silences, a haunting refrain:
Let it be, let it be—yet how, when every heartbeat calls your name?
I chase distractions like fireflies in twilight, fleeting and illusory,
Hoping one might illuminate a path beyond this lingering dusk.In dreams, I rebuild us from fragments—your smile in a stranger's glance,
Your warmth in the fleeting sun—piecing together a mosaic of what ifs,
Only to wake to the stark reality of empty spaces, echoing rooms
Where your absence carves canyons in my chest, vast and unbridgeable.
Let it be, I chant again, louder now, a battle cry against the tide
Of nostalgia that pulls me under, drowning me in waves of yesterday.
One day, perhaps, I'll emerge, salt-stung but stronger, ready to embrace
The unfolding now, to craft memories untethered from your shade,
To let the world bloom anew, vibrant and unhaunted, in the light of tomorrow.