I found your letters in the attic,
yellowed edges, whispers static
Every word a quiet scream
of a love we lost in someone’s dream.
The ink had bled like my old eyes
that couldn’t hold you when you cried
You left your scent between the lines
I read them now, a thousand times
You wrote, "Don’t forget the sky we named,”
But I forgot how stars were framed
The dust, the silence, and my trust—
are all that’s left of us.
Your photograph had curled with time
but your smile still held that climb
The way you looked when you were near
Still makes this room feel so unclear
I whispered back into the air
as if your soul was waiting there
But echoes die in empty rooms
just like our promises, like blooms
You wrote, "Don’t forget the sky we named,”
But I forgot how stars were framed
The dust, the silence, and my trust—
are all that’s left of us.
Was love a thing that time erased?
Or something we just never faced?
You said goodbye in hidden ink,
I see it now—too late to think
Now all I hold is your last line:
"One day, we’ll meet past space and time."
But letters fade, and hearts do rust—
And I am here, alone with dust.