White Hollow

The silence falls like frozen rain,

Soft over echoes, soft over pain.

I walk through fields of muted gold,

But nothing here feels warm or bold.

Breath escapes in clouds of white,

Like memories too faint for fight.

I’m not in darkness… but not in light —

Just drifting through the white hollow night.

This peace feels wrong… like something's gone.

Like I’ve become what I leaned upon.

A shadow dressed in borrowed grace,

Wearing calm like a fragile face.

Footsteps make no sound at all,

Like time forgot I used to fall.

There’s beauty here, in broken snow —

But I don’t trust the way it glows.

I smile like I remember how,

But can’t recall the why or now.

Still I breathe… and still I float —

A ghost beneath a pale white coat.

This peace feels wrong… like something’s gone.

Like I’ve become what I leaned upon.

A shadow dressed in borrowed grace,

Wearing calm like a fragile face.

Did I survive or just erase?

Is healing real… or just a space?

I want to feel, but all I know —

Is this stillness in the white hollow…

This is the white hollow — soft and wide,

Where joy and grief no longer divide.

If I must stay… I’ll leave a spark,

To guide me back when I feel the dark