I wake in the room
you once filled with breath.
The walls still hold your shadow,
but the light has nothing left to catch.
I strike a match for company,
one short flame to keep me warm.
It burns out before I notice,
and the dark returns in its old form.

This wasn’t the life that you wanted,
but I’m living it still.
Not the dreams that you chased,
but they haunt me still.
I fill my chamber
with these short, soft flames —
thinking it was safer
than feeling the ache you named.

They touch me like I’m passing through,
like I’m a room they only rent.
I let them, just to feel the heat,
just to quiet what you left.
But every spark is borrowed,
and every morning colder still.
I keep pretending it’s enough,
though I know it never will.

Around me is moving life,
but inside me something stays.
A pulse that won’t forget you,
a silence shaped like your name.
I reach for hands that vanish,
for voices that don’t stay.
Guess I keep choosing people
who never choose me the same.

This wasn’t the life that you wanted,
but I’m living it still.
Not the dreams that you chased,
but they haunt me still.
I fill my chamber
with these short, soft flames —
thinking it was safer
than feeling the ache you named.

Still walking in your shadow,
still learning how to breathe.
The world keeps pulling forward,
but I stay where you used to be.
And though I never stood with you
on the edge where you looked down,
I feel the cliff inside me
every time I turn around.

This wasn’t the life that you wanted,
but I’m living it still.
Not the dreams that you chased,
but I’m chasing mine still.
I fill my chamber
with these short, soft flames —
knowing they can’t warm
the place your absence claimed.

But emptiness inside
can’t be filled with lies.
Still I keep going,
and call…
it a life…

So I stay…
The dark still knows my name,
but it no longer gets to tell me
what courage means.