Shattered Silence

In the kitchen, whispers cut through the still,

a sharp word falling like a broken mug,

ceramic shards skitter across the tile floor,

a quiet storm—when did we start to fade?

I listen, pressed against the wall, heart thumping,

as their voices rise, a heavy weight on my chest,

conversations that feel more like knives now,

exposed seams in the fabric of my childhood home.

The air shifts, thick with unspoken fears,

a fragile love caught between like dust in the light,

a moment when two lives begin to part,

the echo of laughter replaces with the rattle of change.