silent lingering voices

In the corridors of memory, echoes breathe where silence weeps, ghostly whispers press against my chest— voices of what was, and what was never spoken. Regrets hang heavy like autumn smoke, curling around unsteady lungs, reminding me of all the words I buried too deep to bloom. Heartbreak is a shadowed hymn, a chorus of shattered glass, where love once knelt in light, and now bleeds into dust. Unresolved goodbyes hum in the night, letters never sent, hands that trembled but did not reach— the air still holds their absence, a wound without a closing stitch. Pain lingers like a name forgotten yet forever known, a hunger with no meal, an ache without cure. Rejection cuts softly, not with daggers but with silence, an emptiness that grows where hope once dared to dwell. And broken promises— they rust like abandoned gates, creaking open in my mind, reminding me of trust that drowned in shallow waters. Yet still, I listen— for the silent lingering voices, for even in their haunting, they prove that I once felt, I once lived, I once loved.