The impassive night besieges me, with its invisible weight that annihilates my thoughts.
It doesn’t burst in, it doesn’t scream. It settles and waits to devour me, like black waters seeping into all my cracks.
I still gather the fragments, one by one, with the certainty that they will come apart again, like the sentence pronounced by your departing steps.
The world I offered lies in ruins, and I, without respite, walk among its debris, treading the footprints I will never be able to erase.
I endure out of habit, because the void always prevails, and I still refuse to let it win.
This piece was originally published in Spanish. You can read the original version here.