When the wind stopped singing
and broken bridges could no longer support the hum of my footsteps,
I turned to your voice and it soothed me.

I remember when honesty was just another word
lost among the whispers of white washed walls.
Time stood somewhere between the valleys and the mountains,
too beautiful for wildflowers,
too silent to run like a stream,
so each day I tried to maintain what I think was already broken.

Forgive me for all the times I never called you beautiful.
Instead, I sat eating bitterness with both hands,
questioning silences that remain unanswered.

Each breath we breathe under the same sky awakens
memories I’ve forgotten to hold onto.
Remember those nights when darkness was visible
and my fears were irrational yet pure?
I turned to your voice and it soothed me.