The half-light breathes against my skin, A hush between the “was” and “might.” I reach for something fading thin, A ghost that never learned to fight. Your shadow moves like broken clocks, Hands turning where the hours bleed. I keep the key but lose the lock, And grief becomes the air I breathe. Gloaming where the colors drown, Where I can’t tell the sky from the ground, I lose you in the dimming sound But I still call your name. The twilight stains my trembling hands, A mercy killing for the day. The silence twists like burning strands, Threads of gold turning to gray. I swear I hear you in the dark, In breaths between the thunder’s sway. But nothing blooms without a spark, And you were gone before you’d stay. Gloaming where the colors drown, Where I can’t tell the sky from the ground, I lose you in the dimming sound But I still call your name. Half-light bending breaking… bleeding… I hold the dusk like it can save me. I fold myself into the hour that stole you. If I stay still enough, will the dark remember me? Gloaming where the colors drown, Where I can’t tell the sky from the ground, You fade into the hollow sound But I still call your name. And you never answer.
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