You may think
I don\u2019t notice the pattern.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The way my voice lowers
when I bring them up.
The way the room grows quiet
when I start telling it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Trust me, I know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But there is something you must understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When someone who shaped your world
suddenly vanishes,
the silence they leave behind
does not stay quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It echoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And sometimes
the only way I know how to soften that echo
is to speak about them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yes, I tell the same story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because that moment
split my life in two.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before.
And after.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before, I was held.
After, I had to hold myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before, there was guidance.
After, there was guessing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before, there was safety.
After, there was survival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You see repetition.
I feel the weight of memory
that never found a proper goodbye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was expected to move on.
To adjust.
To be strong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But strength can be lonely.
Strength can be loud on the outside
and trembling underneath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I speak about them,
I am not trying to stay wounded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am trying to keep love alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because if I stop telling the story,
I fear the world will forget
how important they were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And if the world forgets,
then what do I have left?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am not stuck.
I am healing slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Healing does not always look like progress.
Sometimes it looks like returning
until the memory hurts less.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One day,
I will speak more about my victories
than my losses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One day,
their names will bring more warmth
than tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But until that day,
thank you
for not walking away
when the subject feels familiar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am not trying to drag you backward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am trying to gather the pieces
so I can finally move forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when I do,
you will see
that I was never just
the one who lost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was always
the one
learning how to live again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/share\/v\/1BYu86MPr3<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n The crying, painful moment of men by walking shadow poetry<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n