There is a place inside you No map has ever traced, a quiet room behind the ribs where light forgets to stay. No one sees it when you smile, No one hears it when you speak. It moves beneath your laughter like a river running deep. It is yours alone to carry, not carved for other hands, a language made of silence Only your soul understands. Some mornings it is heavier, a stone you cannot name, And still you rise and wear your life as if it were the same. But pain, it does not leave you when ignored or pushed away, it waits within the folds of time, it learns you day by day. It is not your enemy, though it cuts without a sound; it is the truth you buried but still lives underground. And yes, there are nights it breaks you, when endurance feels too wide, when even breath feels borrowed And there is nowhere left to hide. Yet somehow you continue, not because you do not fall, but because within the breaking You still answer life’s call. You learn to walk beside it, not beneath it, not above...
The thoughts of you,
I drown within them slowly,
like waves that never learned
how to let the shore rest.
They rise without warning,
pulling me under in silence,
where even breathing feels like remembering.
They come uninvited,
soft at first, then overwhelming,
carrying echoes of laughter
that no longer belongs to the present.
I hear you in the quiet,
in the spaces between seconds,
in the places I tried so hard to empty.
Memories of both of us
linger in quiet corners of my mind,
replaying moments
as if time refused to move forward.
Every glance, every word,
every touch we once held onto,
they remain untouched by forgetting.
Your name,
it does not fade,
it settles deep within my soul,
like something carved, not written.
I whisper it without sound,
feel it without meaning to,
as if my heart memorized you too well.
I try to forget,
I truly do,
but forgetting feels like betrayal
to something that once felt eternal.
How do I erase a feeling
that once felt like home?
How do I silence what still echoes within me?
So I deny the truth,
wrap it in silence,
hide it beneath distractions,
pretend the absence does not ache.
I tell myself I’ve moved on,
that I’ve grown past the past,
but even lies grow tired of being repeated.
Because truth has a voice,
and it whispers in familiar places,
the streets we walked,
the air that once carried your presence.
It lingers in songs,
in passing faces,
in moments that should mean nothing, but don’t.
Where memories were made,
I now stand alone,
surrounded by ghosts
only my heart can see.
Every step feels heavier there,
like the ground remembers us
more clearly than I wish it did.
And still, somehow,
in all this quiet ruin,
you remain,
unforgotten,
unspoken,
undone.
Not as you were,
but as you left me,
a feeling that refuses to fade,
a story without an ending,
a name that still lives
where I once tried to let go.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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