Lost Emotion

It slipped away without a sound, like smoke leaving an open window. One moment, it was fire in my chest, the next, only a shadow of heat. I search my hands for what I once held, But they return empty every time.

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Lost emotion drifts in quiet corridors, haunting the rooms where we once spoke. It hides in photographs that no longer smile, in letters whose ink has faded into whispers. The air feels heavier where it used to dance, and the nights no longer hum with its voice.

I wonder if it chose to leave, or if I simply stopped listening. Perhaps it grew tired of being ignored, or weary from carrying my hope alone. Even echoes grow thin with distance, and love, too, can forget its name.

Yet somewhere, in an unlit corner of my soul, I sense it still, curled small and waiting. Not gone, but buried under years of silence,
needing warmth to remember its shape. If I close my eyes, I can almost touch it— and almost is enough to keep me here.

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