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The Space Between Hands
The Space Between Hands
Always left alone in the corner of the room,
Often wondering if something’s missing in the gloom.
Head down, tears falling — can’t stop the flow,
Sobbing in silence, hoping no one will know.
Never reaching the end with someone in stride,
Letting go halfway, with no goodbye implied.
Then surrender comes, with the whisper, “Go ahead?”
But “why?” still circles, stuck in my head.
Never enough — maybe never meant to win,
Always the loser before things begin.
Still, even if it’s dark and uneven ground,
Someone will stay, and their silence is sound —
Not just a dream I made up to be found.
Copyright ©
Chonalyn Babao
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