Letters Like Rain
Today, the inbox rained letters
not of joy, but quiet no’s,
soft and sharp,
folded like paper knives.
Each one whispered, not yet, not now,
my heart clenched,
my fingers hovered over reply.
I wanted to scream, to weep,
to throw the screen into the wind.
And yet…
I am still here.
The words still live inside me,
like fireflies
who refuse the night.
Tomorrow, I will write again.
Tomorrow, I will send again.
Today is heavy,
but my pen is heavier
and it will carry me forward.
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