When I Am Gone

When I am gone…

and silence begins

to settle in your breath,

don’t call out my name —

I won’t return anymore.

Don’t look down that road

where I last turned to see you.

Only echoes live there now,

and the ghost of an unfinished sigh.

If your heart

ever trembles at my name,

just know —

that name now sleeps in the soil,

but its ache breathes on…

in every beat that dares to miss me.

I will no longer flow in rivers,

nor drift with the wind,

nor shine in the sun.

I’ll live

deep within you…

as a wound

you’ll understand,

but never say aloud.

Your laughter

won’t bring footsteps anymore,

nor the spark in my eyes,

nor the warmth of my palms.

Only a broken verse

will weep

softly

in some forgotten rhyme.

If you look at my photograph,

don’t smile…

that smile will feel like a lie,

for my eyes hold

no more hope of your return.

And if you ever

find peace in another’s arms,

don’t drown in guilt —

I know

in the burning courtyard of longing,

even shadows can feel like shelter.

Just promise me one thing —

don’t cry in my name.

Your tears might weaken me…

and I can’t afford to break

anymore.

My poems

are your refuge now —

when the loneliness gets too loud,

open them

like a door

behind which

I still wait for you.

I’m no longer life,

I am the touch of your final breath,

the tremor in your last whisper.

I am not death…

I am the immortality

of your love.