the silence is deafening when the echos fade away


I dream in echoes
and memories
that never happened

I get lost in tangents
of what could be

I live trapped
in what ifs
and if onlys

Most days
I don't know
who I am

I only know
I want to be
more than this


I'm the kind of person
that apologises to a pole
if I walk into it

I say sorry like a pray
like a curse
like a lament to Gods
who don't care
whether I'm sorry
or lying
only that I broke my day
to offer my penance


I am broken

She told me once
to never say that

We're damaged
not broken

I think perhaps
she's never allowed herself
to become a muddy puddle
on the floor
drying out into baked dirt
that'll be kicked into the wind
by people who don't know
that arms are best used
to embrace others

Because hugs feel like home

I don't ask often enough
if I can come home
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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