Remember me well,
These are the last lines.
Suppose I was a wind,
I blew through your life.
Or a rain,
Flooding beneath you.
Then the earth absorbed the water,

I disappeared...

What can I say the thoughts are thawed away
lingering mistakes.  

burns my heart  
falling apart  
okay  
blame me  misfortunes  

Hold my weight
Steal my back  
Waiting for everything

"If I offer myself as token, I stay comfortably broken"
I thought it make it more direct while adding some imagery to self reflect

With softly spoken words a warm voice was heard .  

The damage the rage will now all be released from its cage.

Go
you are free
you always thanked me for everything even on the worst of times your tears turned into mine like the cosmos we are combined.

  With the warm touch of love I felt above the grief  release from this absent vessel in me for now I am fully complete from this defeat that always pummeled me.

Looking into the eyes of life itself I see the image of torture stress and falling apart like a mess.

I simply ask don't you know that you are the best?  

With a smile life said "that's what makes us mend to this hurtful trend. A true sacrifice a true friend.

Whats in your eyes is the salt i  cry when we see life splitting us like cleaning dust we wont render to stay and rust .just know missing you is be coming dajavoo the visions of you keep me glued knowing I cant be include. What a life of faith made people refuse what they say and may until this day but for me you are my ways with the garden of rays never ending days that make me look forward to say acceptance creates perfection in all of ways giving them the perfect haze of the modest way giving me direction leans my days with the softest rain I may now happily drain..

Leave when the sky is loud but the sidewalk is quiet.
When the door clicks shut like it’s keeping a secret,
don’t flinch.
Let your hands hang heavy,
the silence has its own grip.

Take only what fits in your chest,
you’ll be shocked what doesn’t.
Use only what won’t puncture your lungs.
(Even breath can betray you.)

Don’t check the mirror.
It lies loudest when you’re quiet.

If you must cry, do it in motion.
Stillness makes grief cocky,
then it hands you a mirror labeled “proof”
and waits.

Let the memory bruise.
Don’t label it.
Names are spells.

Closure’s a mirage
that waves from the distance
and never once turns around.

When the day feels unbearable,
bear it.
Not because you’re strong—
because you’re stubborn
and still here.

By month three,
his name will taste like static.
By month six,
you’ll forget the exact color of his laugh.
And by month twelve—
you’ll mistake the whole thing for a metaphor.

You’ll almost be right.
But even metaphors
break skin.
Memory crusts,
but it never closes.