You Broke Me Beautifully

I remember how your shadow found mine, as though the night had always intended us to become one silence.

You touched my scars like they were sacred things, not wounds to mourn, but constellations waiting for someone to give them a name.

I had become a house abandoned by its own heart, its windows filled with dust, Its rooms echoing with forgotten prayers.

Yet you entered without fear.

You gathered every broken piece of me as though grief itself could bloom beneath your hands. You found a light I had buried so deeplyI no longer believed it belonged to me.

You broke me beautifully.

You turned my sorrow into something that could sing. Every kiss was a small resurrection. Every tear became a river that carried me back to myself.

We were firel earning the language of rain, burning brighter because we knew morning would come to take us apart.

I gave yout he ghosts I could not keep, the quiet darkness that slept beneath my ribs.

You held my soul like fragile glass, careful enoughto make me believe that even broken things could be loved.

But nothing this beautiful belongs to the living forever.

Now I walk through the cathedral your absence has become.

The places you touched still remember your hands. The silence still speaks your name.

And if losing you is the price of knowing what love can become,

then let my heart remain this beautiful ruin

because it was your love that taught it how to break beautifully, and how to bloom.