Step one:
Withdraw your name like a letter unopened,
Leave thoughts and ideas unsaid, unspoken.
Speak no more in rooms where your voice once bloomed
Leave echoes to wilt, leave doubt to consume
Step two:
Gather the fragments you scattered like stars
The mug on their shelf, your song in their car.
Replace yourself in every frame and line,
Let dust rewrite you in the margins of time.
Step three:
Erase the rituals, dull the shine.
No more shared coffee at 9:09.
No more “remember when” or “I thought of you.”
Let habits collapse like leaves soaked through
Step four:
Let their ears learn a different sound.
Until they forget you no longer come around
Memory is a house always shifting—
If you don’t fight to remember, they go missing
Step five:
Leave no scars, just soft omissions.
Time will finish what you begin—
A name unspoken, a face grown thin
In the fog of could-have-beens.
Final step:
Forgive the parts that still remain.
Even shadows have their chains.
But if you must go, then go unseen—
Quiet. Clean.
About the Creator
Edward Val
I'm a poet by nature and a Soldier by trade and my writing reflects my experiences not only in life but also in war. I use writing as way to express myself and deal with the horrors I've seen and hope my words can help my fellow Veterans.
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