It’s like watching a film
that can’t catch up with itself
frames slipping
the road bending, the image always arriving
a heartbeat too late.
Drifted into old photographs,
and there we are again
somewhere between continents
between laughter and silence,
two silhouettes pretending
forever was a place we could stay.
Crossed so many skies.
Collected cities like promises.
And every corner of the world
still carries a trace of us
a shadow,a reflection
a sound that hasn’t learned
I’m gone.
How do you unlive something
that once felt like breath?
You don’t.
You just learn to walk
beside the ghost of it
until the ache becomes
a kind of quiet companion.
Now, the road keeps unfolding.
Me, still learning
how to belong to the world again
not without you but beyond you.
And maybe that’s what healing is
not forgetting
but remembering
without falling apart.