Where time forgets to move.
The world keeps talking in bright tones,
But her silence has its own truth.
Unread words lie scattered near her feet,
Like echoes she chose not to chase.
Not because she lacked the strength to answer,
But because pain needed its own space.
Her heart cracks softly—no loud sound,
No drama for the skies to hear.
Just a gentle split, like a whispered loss,
That settles quietly into fear.
She holds her face, not to hide,
But to feel what must be felt.
Some moments are not meant for healing yet,
They are meant to be knelt.
And so she breathes—between the breaks,
Where sorrow learns to slow.
For even shattered hearts must pause,
Before they decide how to glow.
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