I can hear it,
Heavy dragging footsteps on the floor, in the room next to me; separate,
but never far enough to forget.
The walls hold their breath.
Morning gathers itself beyond the curtains, a sliver of sky seeping through the cracks,
whispering of worlds beyond my sorrow, unseen,unsaid, waiting to be borne.
I can hear whispers from yesterday, soft echoes swelling in my chest
while something restless moves near me, a weight I cannot name, circling
in the half light.
Behind my closed eyes
The footsteps blur into memory, into the quiet of early morning
where silence stretches between heartbeats.
And in the smallest beam of new light, even the darkest thoughts find
rest if only for a moment, if only long enough, to remember that dawn is
always somewhere.
Kayt 31/7/2026
