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Our Light

  • May 1
  • 1 min read

After her, no light felt as bright.


The small moments dimmed,

and the big ones only made the emptiness louder.


They say you don’t know what you had until it’s gone—

but we knew.

We knew the moment she took her first breath,

and we felt it leave with her.


She left us something behind—

a gift that breaks us open,

that makes us laugh when we shouldn’t,

that brings her back in pieces we can still hold.


She will not be forgotten.

Not her,

not any of them who have gone ahead—

nor after.

 
 
 

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