Into the Dark

 
There’s something in the way the air shifts,
like it’s waiting for me to break.
I don’t know if I’m falling,
or if I’ve already disappeared.

Your voice haunts the edges of my mind,
soft, but it pulls harder than I can fight.
I try to reach, but there’s nothing there,
just shadows where your touch used to be.

I’m slipping—
slipping into the void.
I’m crumbling—
under the weight of something you left behind.
Will you follow, or let me drift away?
I’m descending—
descending deeper, far from where I was.

It’s quieter now,
the silence between us louder than anything we’ve said.
I’m sinking, but I can’t feel the depth,
can’t see the end, or if I want to.

There’s no way back from this place,
no hands to pull me from the dark.
I thought I knew how it would feel,
but this is different—this is nothing.

I’m slipping—
slipping into the void.
I’m crumbling—
under the weight of something you left behind.
Will you follow, or let me drift away?
I’m descending—
descending deeper, far from where I was.

Maybe this is what I wanted,
maybe this is all there ever was.
The space between us has become a weight,
and I don’t know if I can carry it anymore.

I’m slipping…
I’m crumbling…
Will you follow, or let me disappear?
I’m descending—
descending into the dark.