This is not a book of blame.
It's a book of memory-of mid-conversations that faded,
text threads that turned cold,
and bonds that couldn't bend far enough to last.
It captures a passing season in the author's life when
friendships didn't end with fireworks, but with a hush.
Everyone played their part. That's all.
No need to rehash what time has already softened.
This chapter has since ended-
folded gently and placed on a higher shelf.
Time brings understanding: not all good things are meant to stay,
and some losses can be rewritten into light.
In the end, nothing ever truly breaks.
It stretches, reshapes, and endures the test-
and in time, becomes whole again.
What remains is not for revenge.
It is for release.
And with that,
we are free to begin again.
Related Subjects
Poetry