Days bleed into nights, your shadow still walks these halls
I trace the dust where your laughter hung, counting cracks in the wall
The kettle sings your name, rain knocks in Morse on the pane
I answer with trembling hands, but silence always explains
If time is a healer, why’s the scar shaped like your smile?
I rewind the dial, let the static stay awhile
Every sunrise is a letter returned—address unknown, sky unread
I keep writing you in blue, even though the ink has bled