When Time Is Up

When time is up, your shadow leaves a hole I can’t fill. The silence screams your name— a jagged wound that won’t close. I’m still breathing, but barely— clutching memories like broken glass, cutting me with every thought of you. But the world doesn’t wait. It pushes and pulls, and I have no choice but to follow— even if it means dragging my broken pieces across the ground, step by painful step. Moving forward isn’t forgetting— it’s surviving the loss, it’s a slow, raw kind of love for the life that still burns inside me, even when you’re gone