I was not trying to impress you. I was trying to reassemble you.

I did not know that sometimes the light, when it rises, exposes what someone has done in the dark.

And now it tears at me. Not only the betrayal — but the tenderness of my own attempt. I was not naive. I was devotional. I will sing into brokenness even when it breaks my own heart. (2/2)

#poetry #writing #heartbreak #grief

I stood at the edge of your abyss and sang into it. My voice traveled through wires like oil poured carefully over cracked stone. Old spirituals. Field songs. Gospel that carried centuries of grief braided with hope. Blues that knew about betrayal long before I did.

I sang as if the sound could reach between the fractures and coax the light upward.

I sang softly, so as not to draw attention. It wasn’t performance; it was invocation. (1/2)

#poetry #writing #heartbreak #grief