26/09/2026
โ | โโ๐๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐ป ๐๐ฎ๐๐ฒ
โ
โI keep a few letters in my drawer, just in case something happens,
โwhen guilt crashes upon my soul and makes me wonder if this could be the end.
โ
โThey hide beneath a stack of forgotten schoolwork.
โSome were written years ago, their edges softened by time;
โsome last night beneath the pale moonlight,
โdrenched in tears and crumbled by shaking hands.
โ
โThey werenโt instructions, nor endings carved into certainty,
โbut fragments of someone struggling to imagine tomorrow.
โ
โI read each one in a silent room
โwhere, in the past, I wouldnโt have thought to stay.
โThe quiet felt different than usual,
โalmost like a question.
โ
โHow many goodbyes were written
โuntil I found a reason to truly stay?
โ
โI placed the letters down,
โnot as evidence of an ending,
โbut as evidence that pain becomes letters
โwhen it cannot become conversation.
โ
โMaybe the writer had been waiting for a sign
โthat tomorrow could hold something kinder than today.
โ
โThe unfinished songs.
โThe unsaid jokes.
โThe breeze against my face.
โSmall, ordinary things can be reasons to stay.
โ
โSometimes โAre you okay?โ
โmust be asked twiceโwith patience, with sincerity.
โ
โThese letters remind me:
โsomething temporary cannot be solved by something permanent.
โ
โNo one should have to find the words, just to deserve being heard.
โ
โpoetry by thelle
art by Lance Jori Ocden | KCC HERALD
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