Stillness

The clock on the wall is a frozen face,

hands pointing to moments lost,

a soundless echo in the room,

a reminder of voices, soft and tossed.

Dust collects like forgotten dreams,

a stillness, heavy, that lingers long,

it was once a metronome of our lives,

but now it’s a silence, an abandoned song.

I lean into the quiet, where time lost track,

as memories gather in the corners,

a heartbeat waits to be revived,

under layers of dust and unspoken borders.