YOU ARE READING

Poesía

|I never told you And you will never know The secrets the stars whispered to me That night under the moon| Cover credits to: @LeroyGraphics

Sandstorm

42 7 7

by SilverFaith_

by SilverFaith_

It's strange
how quickly people become unfamiliar.

One day,
you know exactly how someone laughs,
what silence means coming from them,
how their eyes look
when something is wrong.

And then one morning,
you realize
you have started rehearsing conversations
because speaking naturally
no longer exists between you.

I think that was the moment
I understood
we were already ending.

Not loudly.
Not cruelly.

Just slowly,
in the way abandoned places
collect dust
without anyone noticing at first.

Now every interaction feels careful,
like we are both trying not to touch
the ruins
of something we once lived inside.

I feel the growing distance
like the sand in an hourglass
slipping with every awkward exchange between us.

And I don't know how to stop it
because I no longer know you enough to try.

I don't know
when exactly I lost you.

But now the dust
has become a sandstorm,
and I think
we were buried long before we noticed.