The kettle hums beside the sink again Morning light spills thin across the floor I used to fill the room without thinking Now I wait before I speak at all Every week folds into another version Of trying not to lose the softer parts The world keeps asking for a louder answer While I count the slowing of my heart Maybe nothing stays the way we hold it Maybe that's the gentlest truth to learn I watch the days drift past the window slowly Still I wait for something small to return People move like weather through each season Leaving traces in the smallest things Coffee stains and half-forgotten phrases Old receipts tucked inside magazines (Stay here a little longer) (Just until the room goes dim) Piano fading under distant voices Maybe nothing stays the way we hold it Even warmth can disappear by noon Still I leave the hallway light behind me Like somebody might come home soon I can feel the air begin to loosen Spring arriving quietly through cracks Nothing grand, just small familiar comfort Pulling tired pieces of me back (We were never meant to keep it all) (Only meant to feel it while it passed) Maybe nothing stays the way we hold it Maybe that's what makes it matter now Every fleeting moment leaves a fingerprint Even if it fades somehow Maybe nothing stays the way we hold it Still I let the evening settle in There is something kind about acceptance Even when the silence wins
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