“The Weight of Her Last Breath”
He used to carry the world
on tired shoulders, fragile lives
held like glass too thin to grasp.
She was his world—frail, breathless
beneath the hum of ma
“The Weight of Her Last Breath”
He used to carry the world
on tired shoulders, fragile lives
held like glass too thin to grasp.
She was his world—frail, breathless
beneath the hum of machines.
One moment, a breath too late—
and the world stopped.
Years have passed,
but he hasn’t let go of that night,
his mind a loop he can’t escape,
guilt carved deep, blame his prayer.
He walks among us, but there’s a shadow
in his eyes, a voice sharp,
begging for a truth he can’t find.
We watch him spin faster,
a storm in the quiet of our lives.
We try to hold him,
but he slips through like smoke.
Still, he burns, and we wait, helpless,
hoping he wakes before he’s ash.
sophie.abid16