18. The Ending
- Aug 16
- 1 min read
Updated: Aug 17
Sometimes we feel things before they happen
The hush before a door clicks shut.
The weight of a name we no longer say aloud.
The soft unraveling of days that seemed stitched to us forever.
We sense the ending long before it speaks.
It hums beneath the skin,
A knowing without proof,
A mourning without a funeral.
And though we keep moving,
Packing lunches, sending emails,
Some small part of us is already waving goodbye
To something we loved,
To something we couldn’t keep.