When the Light Forgot Me
I whispered your name
into the bruise of the storm
and it whispered back
like it missed me too.
Your voice—
I remember it
like warmth
I no longer deserve.
They keep telling me
the sky is clearing,
but I am rain.
I am always rain.
And when I tried
to let you go,
my fingers bled
from the holding.
Copyright © Alesia Leach | Year Posted 2025
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