“Where the Quiet Lives”
There is a place the world forgets,
Where silence hums in twilight’s breath,
And trees remember all our names,
Even the ones we buried in ourselves.
I go there when the noise is loud—
When clocks are cruel and hearts feel far.
It’s not a place you find on maps,
But one you feel behind your scars.
A breeze will ask you nothing,
And answer all the same.
It will speak in rustling whispers
Of the things you never tamed.
Like love that never found a home,
Or pain you wore like second skin.
The wind won’t try to fix you—
It will only let you in.
And maybe that is all we need—
Not grand relief or perfect grace,
Just one small breath,
In one small hour,
Where we can show
Our truest face.
