“Even after the break, I kept the light.”

I’d relive the year before the crack,  
when every door still clicked like trust,  
when names were safe in my mouth,  
and the table held our hands without shaking.

I’d return to the year the glass stayed whole,  
to the spring of unguarded laughter,  
to the late light on ordinary afternoons  
when I still believed in the shape of a promise.

But I would know then  
what I could not know then:  
that trust can break quietly,  
like ice under a first step,  
like a thread that smiles while it frays.

So I would walk that year again  
with gentler hands,  
with fewer walls,  
with my heart a little less open  
and a little more brave.

And when the breaking came—  
because some seasons are written that way—  
I would carry it differently,  
like moonlight carried in a cup,  
still shining,  still mine.

Sunshine in a bag, Gorillaz

Gleaming Webs (throwback post)

Made with duck.ai 💛