There are nights when saudade holds my heart softly,
and it’s the only time I feel at home, mostly,
reminding me of all the almosts that became nothing but memories.
Maybe they were right about the theories
the ones that whisper that longing isn’t weakness, just proof that something once mattered.
Maybe it happened to keep your heart sheltered,
from silhouettes that lingered,
from questions that stayed unanswered.
There are fragments and echoes I still don’t understand,
and the universe keeps its silence
as if timing has a language
and I was never fluent in patience.
Maybe healing isn’t loud,
maybe it’s just gentle alignment
one breath, one memory, one forgiven ache
at a time.
Echoes that once felt like home,
now feel empty, just a fragile dome.
I still think of those halcyon days,
where laughter bloomed in effortless ways.
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Author:
Simran_ (
Offline) - Published: November 25th, 2025 02:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments2
I love the use of another language's word for one not available it the language one uses. Saudade I am very familiar with and although nostalgia is often substituted it does not carry the same flavor. Loved the poem
Wow marvelous poem, i like the fluent creative metaphor line lots. Kudos!
Plz also read and comment on my newest poem
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