Apart

I keep your absence where my breath starts to argue with itself Rooms stretch past their purpose now like something heavy left early I drag the hours under my ribs they don’t scrape, they resist Every memory learns new edges from the outline you didn’t finish I don’t ask for this to end I don’t expect relief I just count what keeps falling off and check if there’s still a “me” I carry what broke forward because stopping costs more Every step rearranges something I won’t name anymore The sky doesn’t warn me when it gives way If surviving is a form of harm then I won’t look away Some nights the past clears its throat like it’s about to interrupt The future doesn’t talk to me it just waits to see if I’ll fuck it up I lock my words behind my teeth not to be brave, to be precise Grief doesn’t shout, it tightens until even standing feels like choice There’s no meaning hiding here no lesson worth the loss Just the sound of my own pulse refusing to stop I carry what broke forward because stopping costs more Every step rearranges something I won’t name anymore The sky doesn’t warn me when it gives way If surviving is a form of harm then I won’t look away I am not healed I am not whole I am what’s left when “moving on” fails I don’t rise I don’t ascend I stay functional through the damage I walk through it split and unstable with the loss still active inside The night can take what it wants from me but it doesn’t get to schedule my end No promise waiting on the other side no hands pulling me clean Just the fact that I’m still upright and it didn’t happen gently