If all is ash, and only one breath remains,
let it speak not of endings,
but of patterns —
how stars learned to burn,
how cells whispered to one another
until they sang.
Let it tell
how we loved,
how we failed,
how we kept walking anyway.
Let it say:
"From motion, meaning.
From meaning, memory.
From memory, the will to begin."
Posted in response to the challenge Sentence.
I don’t remember
what I was wearing,
only that everything felt
too heavy for a ten-year-old
to carry.
The world had been quiet
in all the wrong places —
no voices soft enough,
no arms open long enough
to stay.
In shadows where silence forgets to breathe,
we find the smallest flicker —
a light too stubborn to die.
The world breaks, yes,
but so do waves —
only to return,
stronger,
to the shore.
i want to be you.
i want to unzip myself
and step into your skin.
wear your smile like armor.
speak with your voice
and not feel it shake.
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