the hand

there is a hand squeezing my heart

tight slow like it knows every part of me

holding on to the pieces i’m leaving behind

the empty rooms the silent voices the half spoken goodbyes

it does not let go

even when i try to breathe

it reminds me of what will never be the same

what will slip through my fingers like sand

and i carry it with me

a weight both sharp and familiar

a quiet ache beneath my ribs

that tells me i am not just moving forward

but carrying everything i’m afraid to lose