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In Mental Health 1 min read
The cost of holding on
<p>Beneath the stars, the silence grew,</p><p>Where once your voice like rivers flew.</p><p>Now echoes haunt these hollow halls,</p><p>A ghost of love in shadowed calls.</p><p><br></p><p>Your touch, once warm, is memory's sting,</p><p>A winter born from early spring.</p><p>I held your light, then watched it fade,</p><p>Like sun that slips through evening's shade.</p><p><br></p><p>We danced on dreams, now cracked and bare,</p><p>Footsteps lost in empty air.</p><p>The words we swore, now lie in dust,</p><p>Betrayed by time, dissolved by trust.</p><p><br></p><p>My chest, a cage of shattered glass,</p><p>Each beat recalls what came to pass.</p><p>Still, I breathe, though torn apart—</p><p>The cost of holding on too hard.</p><p><br></p><p>Yet even pain has roots in grace,</p><p>To love and lose still marks its place.</p><p>So let me break, and let me bend,</p><p>For heartbreak writ</p><p>es how all things end.</p><p><br></p><p>Yet even pain has roots in grace,</p><p>To love and lose still marks its place.</p><p>So let me break, and let me bend,</p><p>For heartbreak writes how all things end.</p><p>And from the cracks, new songs ascends.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p>

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