the days feel quieter now,
muted like the inside of a car
idling too long in an empty driveway
every memory pulls like a thread,
unraveling what i tried to stitch together
in the dark
there’s a static hum
in the space where your name used to fit,
a feedback loop of “maybe”
and “what if”
it settles into my chest,
a noise i can’t tune out
i thought the quiet would save me,
but it only taught me
to sit with the weight of what you left behind
a hollow kind of stillness,
a hum that never really goes away
sometimes i wonder
if you hear it too,
that low buzz of unfinished things,
ghosts of words unsaid,
or if it follows only me,
a shadow stitched to my heels.
