“Maybe Tomorrow”

A hollow hum in the empty spaces,
where echoes of laughter used to bounce.
Dust motes dance in the pale sunlight,
a silent ballet in a vacant room.

The phone lies still, a cold, smooth stone.
No vibrations, no urgent ring.
Just the steady thrum of my own heartbeat,
a lonely rhythm in the quiet.

I reach out, fingers brushing air,
grasping for a connection that isn’t there.
A phantom limb of longing,
aching for a touch, a shared glance.

The city lights blur through the windowpane,
a million lives flickering, vibrant, and near,
yet impossibly distant, separated by glass,
and a chasm of unspoken words.

Loneliness, a cloak woven of shadows,
clinging to my skin, heavy and familiar.
I wear it like a second skin,
a constant companion in the solitude.

But even in the deepest dark, a flicker remains.
A tiny ember of hope, refusing to be snuffed.
A whisper that maybe, just maybe,
connection is still possible. Maybe tomorrow.
SS 2/6/25