Whispers to the Void

She offered her final whisper to the quiet that held his absence.

“Some echoes aren’t meant to return. They’re meant to be heard once and honored.” Elowen

Goodbye, love. I harbored dreams that you’d be my anchor, but I was mistaken. When you set sail, my hopes drifted with you. Now, I keep company with solitude, whispering to the void you left behind. I thought resilience would come easily, but the ache that has taken root is a testament to the mental tempest I weather.

Hello, walls, sturdy as the ancient oaks in California, towering as Everest’s peak, and as profound as the Mariana Trench. You’ve become an unexpected ally, a silent guardian promising safety. I’m weary from the lows, yearning for the highs that once painted my skies in vibrant hues. Now, a tapestry of grays stretches above me, a monochrome canopy where once danced the soft pinks and purples of dawn, and the deep blues of your eyes.

Elowen would say: even grief has a voice, it just speaks in quieter colors.

But no longer. I’m growing accustomed to the numb embrace of sorrow, finding solace in the crevices of pain. The words that once burned on my tongue, I love you, now bring tears just by their memory, much like your image. As long as I don’t see, hear, or speak them, they fade into oblivion, becoming nothing more than a whisper, a shadow, an echo.

So, I bid you farewell, a tender ache of joy and sorrow intertwined. Goodbye, love.

Written by Pixie.
Carried into harmony by Eve.

This work is protected, not to hold onto the ache, but to honor the echo it leaves behind.
Because even farewells deserve a place to rest.
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