sadness doesn’t scream
it leans
quietly
like a shadow that forgets its own name

it comes dressed
in the clothes of your past
sits beside you
without asking
and reminds you
of every version of yourself
you never forgave

it’s not loud
it doesn’t need to be
it just stares
through your hands
while you wash dishes
walk sidewalks
scroll phones

and suddenly
everything tastes like memory

sadness is not weakness
it is unspent love
it is the echo of care
with nowhere left to go
it is the after of joy
the proof that something mattered
the ache
of still holding on
to what the world told you
to let go of

you are not broken
because you feel deeply
you are whole
because you refuse
to forget what it means
to be human

sadness isn’t the end
it’s the soil

and something
is trying
to bloom