Lost Conversations

I scroll through names that now feel like dust,

each one a ghost of what’s lost, what we trust.

An empty chair waits across from me here,

where laughter once filled up the space that feels sheer.

The echo of your voice hangs heavy in air,

but hearing your laughter is a dream laid bare.

I reach for the warmth of those moments in time,

yet every attempt feels so distant, so blind.

It’s like trying to catch smoke in cupped hands,

a flicker of joy slips away as it stands,

leaving silence sharper than any stray sound,

a hollow reminder of love that we found.