I still set a place for youwithout meaning to.Grief teaches your handsto move like ghosts—reaching for thingsthat aren’t there anymore. People say time softens loss,but they never tell youhow heavy the softening feels.How the smallest things—a laugh that sounds like yours,a song you once hummed—can split you openlike it’s the very first dayall over again.…

In the corner of my bedroom,Where the moonlight doesn’t reach,Lives a shadow shaped like nothing,Yet it whispers like it breathes. It never moves at daytime,Never stirs when lights are on—But the moment darkness settles,All its quiet rules are gone. I hear its fingers on the floorboards,Hear it dragging something deep,Hear it crawling just a littleEvery…