Just an Echo in My Bones
by Dawg
Just an echo in my bones.
You don’t heal when the pain still pays the rent.
She kept all the photos, I kept her ghost.
I still hear her laugh when I’m close to comatose.
Some hearts haunt instead of break.
The sheets remember more than I do.
Her scent’s a bruise I never move through.
I’d scream if silence hadn’t claimed the space.
Her goodbye was a loaded thing–
cold lips, soft voice, and a razor sting.
She didn’t leave me–she left everything.
I sleep where we used to sin,
with a past I can’t outrun or skin,
and her name is the sharpest part within.