I’m that empty park bench on a meadow
The sound on mountaintops that reflects and echoes
And the bird that twitters amid all the crows
And the resounding footsteps in a darkened corridor.
I’m the creaking door of an empty home
I’m that aroma of the cigarettes that you never smoked
I’m the fragrant smell of a budding rose
And the feel of a full mooned night as it glows.
I’m the the first flare of flame as it lights on a candle
And that sweet scent of smoke as the wind blows
I’m that empty street where in hiding you smoke
And that silent staircase where you used to sit before.
I’m the piece of jagged mirror that you keep in your drawer
And that bitter ache in your chest as you sleep alone
And that single drop of tear that you shed in lonely sorrow
And that secret that I will keep until the end of tomorrow.
I’m the stars that fell on the nights you wept
And the tears that soaked the cover of your pillow when you slept.
I’m the empty page you left
With the date in your journal and feelings unexpressed.
I’m the promises that you never kept
The words you never said
And the silence that remained in the air…
When you whispered my name in every prayer.