The Empty Space

It broke you –
not with thunder,
but with the sound of a door
that would never open again.
The room stayed the same,
but nothing inside made sense.
You screamed once,
then forgot how.
Now grief isn’t loud anymore.
It sits like dust
in the corners of rooms no one enters.
The storm passed –
but it left salt in the floorboards,
a silence that sticks to your skin.
And still,
you listen
for something
that no longer echoes.