GRIEF Poem: The Scar That Lingers, by Patricia J. Dorantes

The past is almost gone, yet it breathes,
A whisper etched in the hollow of my chest.
A scar remains, tender, aching, alive,
A map of words unsaid, of love unexpressed.

Time, the thief with silent feet,
Stole moments we didn’t know were fleeting.
In its grasp, the hours bled,
While we danced on the edge of meaning.

Now I stand in echoes, calling,
To shadows that cannot answer back.
Every pause, every lost embrace,
Every minute, a wound, a crack.

Grief wears no clock, it holds no end,
It lives where memories start to fade.
Yet in the ache, I hear your voice,
A fragile thread in the darkness laid.

Though the past dissolves, slipping fast,
That scar—it lingers, a stubborn fire.
It burns, it mourns, yet still it loves,
A testament to all we couldn’t aspire.