To Be the Wind, Not the Weight

I called your name in silence,
but the echo never came.
My heart — a tide too faint to stir the shore,
while you drifted past the dove,
and never returned.

A heavy guilt took form as kin,
while thought lay dim,
and flesh felt nothing within.

From afar, I watched —
your laughter spilled like wind chimes
in a stormless breeze,
a melody I never heard
when I stood beside you.

In that fleeting music,
truth gleamed — radiant and sharp.
You had found your calm,
in a world where I no longer rippled the waters.

Was I ever an anchor,
or just a weight?
Did I hold you down
when all you needed was wind?

I replay our silences louder than our words,
searching for a sign
in what you never said.
And still, I grieve
what I was never told —
why you left
and why it seemed to make you whole.