Beside you, I am not afraid

She is going somewhere 
I can hear it 
in the way the house pauses 
when she gently glides through it, 
as if even the torn walls 
are trying to find her. 

I sit in polished classrooms
behind gates and old brick walls,
arriving in quiet cars
that glide past the lines outside.

There’s a quiet beauty 
in the things you know won’t last,  
moments already fading  
even while you’re inside them.