I regretted what I did,
The silence where words should have been.

I grieved for all I used to hold-
The laughter, talks, the softer days.

I mourned not just the loss itself,
But who I was back then.

A chapter closed in quiet pain,
Afraid, not ready to forget.

And still I step- I stumble on,
Not to erase what came before,
But to learn to walk beside the past.

I breathe.
I let the stillness come.
I do not chase the light—
but I do not close the door to it either.

I live, not because I must,
but because something in me still wants to.