I built a bridge of words to reach you,

Crafted from quiet sighs and restless nights.

Each syllable, a whisper of my heart,

Hoping to meet yours halfway.

But your silence is a tide,

Rising, pulling me further from the shore.

I call out, yet the echo fades,

Swallowed by waters, you won’t cross.

Did I love too loudly or stand too still?

Did my truth weigh heavy on your fragile skies?

Your eyes once held answers, now they hide storms,

And I’m left reading shadows in their wake.

I waited for closure, a gentle dawn,

Yet dusk lingers, and the stars look colder.

The hands I reached for became fleeting winds,

Leaving me to hold the emptiness tighter.

Still, I do not hate the quiet you’ve left—

It teaches me the power of letting go.

Though I ache for what we might’ve been,

I now turn to build a bridge back to myself.

In between the wind where you left me unknown.

This was written by our contributing writer, Atia Sanjida.