Like a Lotus
No one died,
but something in me did.
A pressure in my chest,
a burning ache in my heart.
An emptiness in my stomach,
but no meal to save me.
I’m too late to be saved.
So instead, I mourn.
No one died,
but grief of the heart…it kills.
Death by invisible heartbreak,
no funeral,
no closure,
no one bringing me flowers.
Alone, I mourn.
A loss too silent.
Too quiet to hear.
Too hidden to see.
A soft suffocation,
I’m being buried alive.
Still,
I fight to reach air.
Beyond dirt,
beyond sticks,
beyond stones.
From the mud,
I breathe.
I’m not broken.
I’m healing.
I’m not buried,
I’m planted.
And like a lotus,
I’ll rise.
Copyright © Aleise Kebreau | Year Posted 2025
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