We Weren't Done Yet

<|no data> I packed the silence in a cardboard box.

Called it closure, called it lost. Every word felt final then, like goodbye carved

into what we'd been. I walked around with a crack in my chest,

callin' it strength, callin' it rest. But some things don't break, they wait

like sparks in the dark, running late. Then you said my name,

like you still believe, and something old came back to breathe.

I felt the weight start falling away like the sun through cracks in

the grave. We weren't done yet. We were just tired and scared.