It starts quiet—

Like the air forgot how to move.

I don’t know why I’m talking now;

Maybe the silence got too heavy to hold.

There’s a hum in the streetlights

That sounds almost kind tonight.

I keep thinking if I stand still long enough,

The world might remember I’m still here.

People talk about healing

Like it’s something that happens to you,

But some of us just keep walking,

Hoping the road turns softer.

I’m not chasing meaning anymore—

I’m just trying to see what it looks like

When the tired keep breathing.

If another soul had lived this skin,

They’d have gone quiet long ago.

But I stay—

To see what ruins become

When they keep breathing.

You’re not saying much,

And that’s fine.

Maybe you already know the weight

That words can’t shift.

I used to think I’d break

If anyone looked too close,

But maybe I’m already cracked enough

To let a little light in.

Some nights I watch the city’s pulse

Flicker through windows

And think—how miraculous it is,

The simple cruelty of staying.

How every survivor

Is just another version of surrender

That refused to fold.

If another soul had lived this skin,

They’d have vanished into silence.

But I stay—

To see what ruins become

When they keep breathing.

Maybe endurance isn’t strength at all.

Maybe it’s just curiosity

With nowhere else to go.

Still, there’s something holy

In the act of not disappearing—

A defiance so small

You can only see it when you’re still.

Don’t answer.

Just stay.

The world will keep turning without us,

But for now,

I want to see what becomes of a ruin that refuses to die.

You don’t have to speak.

Just sit here awhile.

The world’s still turning,

And somehow, so are we.