Unanswered but holding

I whispered it soft, like a secret I couldn’t keep,

a prayer folded thin and tucked beneath the dark.

The house creaked louder than my breath, the wind spoke in tongues,

shadows pushed hard against the cracked plaster wall.

I didn’t expect an answer,

just needed the sound of asking,

a thread to hold on while the quiet folded around me.

Maybe it didn’t answer—

maybe it was the silence itself,

that small waiting space between heartbeats,

a shield made not of light but absence.

I don’t know what saved me,

only that I was still here,

wrapped in something I couldn’t name.