That which could never be again

I picked up my phone to send that text, then I remembered we don’t do that anymore. I stare at your pictures, heart bleeding, yet my fingers never truly locate the delete button. Those pictures were taken for memory’s sake, but how do I explain that I don’t want the memories anymore? How do I explain that the memory of all we were is killing me slowly? I tried to fold you away like old letters, burying you under daily stress and intentional slow drags. But memories are stubborn… or maybe it’s just my smoke that's no longer a shield. Because everything has you in it... So I still live in moments that no longer exist, feeling the heat that lives only in mind like a parallel universe but this time, I’m writing the scripts. Pieces of me are still standing in places we promised forever. Not waiting just listening, watching, and wondering when exactly we started sinking. Because forever ended quietly… too quietly. No thunder. No warning. So now I’m here, learning to live with your ghosts, learning to breathe around the space you left behind. Because that which could never be again still lives somewhere in me not as hope, definitely not as love, maybe an ache… a void that no goodbye ever truly closed.