People claim they know each other
yet wander strangers to themselves,
mirrors fogged with borrowed truths,
names without a soul to hold them.
They will never know.
Maybe the coffin carries our forgiveness,
sealed beneath wood and silence
but why doesn’t it splinter
under the weight of our sins?
Why does it stay whole
when we are not?
Let God carry the coffin,
for our hands tremble with emptiness.
Let Him bear the hollow we’ve carved
inside our own chests.
I surrendered to the final sleep,
let it take me gently.
but it had already arrived,
quiet as regret,
certain as the dark.

