This poem about lost love captures the ache of absence when a home no longer feels like shelter. It reflects on the exhaustion of holding on, the hollow silence left behind, and the quiet grasp for freedom.
Love evaporated
long before these feet
crossed the threshold
of this hollow house.
Outstretched arms,
too tired to hold on,
reached for freedom’s hand,
and the faded shadow
of a former self.
This poem reflects on the quiet grief of love’s absence. If you’ve walked through a hollow home of your own, may these words remind you that emptiness can also be a beginning.
