I missed it
The river inside me once surged with unyielding force its waters wild and restless, breaking through every dam I reacted with the fury of storms, with the tenderness of melting ice I was a flame that burned too bright, too loud, mad with feeling, dizzy with the chaos of love and pain Every moment was a tempest I trembled, I laughed, I wept without shame I lived inside the very edges of madness, because to feel less was unthinkable But that river has run dry not by choice, not by will, but by countless silences swallowed whole, by countless touches that never reached, by countless words that turned away The warmth was squeezed out slowly like light fading through cracked glass and what remains is the cold stillness of stone There is no longer a storm inside me, no eruption, no thunder, even the smallest joys fall like rain on dust, unable to awaken what has been sealed away Love too has become a ghost, a distant echo barely remembered, not because it was lost but because it was never tr...
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