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ismail May 29
no quiet can unring the noise
no word ever lands where its meant to

i never learned how to hold all this
or maybe i was never supposed to
maybe the breaking was always the shape

some nights i speak to a god who's gone
ask to be taken apart
not fixed just ended

everything else has fallen still
and i remain
the last sound in a place
that forgot how to listen
ismail May 29
your silence isnt mine
your ache doesnt bruise me the same way
and even if i hand you every word
you still wont bleed like i did

— The End —