Love And Agony(A Poem)

Love is a thread

fine as a breath,

yet spun from storms.

It wraps the ribs in velvet,

then tightens with every heartbeat,

until it burns.

You smiled once, 

and I mistook it for eternity.

But the sky kept moving, 

and your hands grew sistant,

fingers unlearning mine 

like a language fading overtime

Agony is not the scream

it’s the silence after.

The echo of what we were 

pressed into spaces

where your voice used to live.

Still, I carry you

like a thorn in bloom

beautiful,

and too deep to pull out.