We love them louder
after their voices VANISH.
We carve their kindness in stone
after ignoring it in SKIN.
We dig through memories like ruins,
finding the things we ONCE tossed aside,
their laugh, their stubborn, clumsy love,
their fragile, furious HOPE.
Why it takes a coffin
for their FLAWS to soften?
Why it takes goodbye
to CALL them beautiful?
It shouldn't take dying to be worthy.
It shouldn't take grief to see clearly.
It shouldn't.
BUT it does.
About the Creator
Komal
I write poems and stories that hit the feels.
When I’m not lost in my own plots, I’m either daydreaming about the next big idea or just winging life with a grin.
𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕀𝕄ℙ𝔸ℂ𝕋
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