“
The Dagger in the Heart
You seem so calm, the sea before a storm,
still in the hush before the waves arise.
But then—a memory drifts through your mind,
a fleeting touch of kindness long ago,
the quiet smile of someone in a café,
her laughter caught in sunlight, soft and bright.
A yellow tulip, trembling in your hands,
tucked in her hair, as golden as the dawn.
An old slip of paper, edges curling thin,
her number scrawled in ink now blurred with time—
and all at once, the stillness breaks apart.
Some words remain, though years have worn their sound,
like daggers lodged too deep within the heart.
They never twist, they never pull away,
but linger there, a whisper in the dark,
a wound unclosed, a shadow breathing near.
No matter where you turn, they echo back,
the syllables that cut and left their scar,
a voice that lingers long after it's gone.
”
”