I've been trying
not to revisit what we were.
But some memories
pass through me
as if they still held the key
to the house I left behind.
I let go…
not out of longing,
but because certain stories
take a long time to let go of the skin.
And I continue halfway,
a little yours,
a little mine,
trying to discover
where what's left ends
and who I am now begins.
There are nights when I almost call you,
but the silence answers me
before I even try.
I learned that not everything that comes back
is good to stay.
And even so,
I still feel you
in the small details
that time doesn't take away.
I continue halfway,
but one day I'll get there —
to the place where your name
doesn't weigh,
it just passes by.