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- 09/01/2025
- 265 Words
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Good Times - 13. Chapter 13
I Sang a Song to the Stars Tonight after the leaving
I sang a song to the stars tonight, a broken hymn, a thread of light. The sky just listened, cold and wide, while ash fell softly from inside.
All my love has turned to ash— no flame remains, no tender flash. He left me here, no hand, no word, just silence where his breath once stirred.
The night leaned in but did not speak. The stars kept shining, pale and sleek. I asked them why; I begged them how— but they just blinked above my brow.
So, I stood still, and let it fall: the song, the ash, the love, all. And though he’s gone, the stars still burn— not for return, but for the turn of grief to grace, of ache to art— a song still rising from my heart.
I Still Call
Your love is burning me up— a blaze in the marrow, where silence used to sleep. Flames lick the edges of my name, and still I whisper it to you.
Tears flow like oil on fire, slick with memory, each drop a prayer that never lands.
You’re ripping me up— not like paper, but like roots torn from earth, still clutching soil, still reaching for light.
My heart is ash. Not cold, not dead— but smoldering, a ruin that remembers how it once beat for you.
And yet, I call. Through ash, through smoke, through the echo of your leaving, I call.
Because even ruin can sound like devotion when it’s spoken in your name.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.