Aftermath of a Loss

The sting lingers still, a ghost in my chest,

a memory heavy, its shape never clear.

The moment erupted, a storm in the nest,

fists were our words, hearts naked with fear.

I walked from that clash like a leaf caught in wind,

a breath lost in chaos, my grip slipped away.

Lessons unspoken, stitched deep from within,

the words I would’ve said, now shadows of gray.

The cracked pavement holds echoes of tension,

each stumble a marker of pride and regret.

I learned that in loss, there’s a strange kind of mention,

a truth wrapped in sorrow, not easy to forget.