Echoes Poem by Essie Ops

you left me with silence
and I still tried to make it a song.

I sat with the empty spaces
like they were lyrics,
waiting for a melody that never came.

I spoke to the walls,
to the windows,
to the night —
as if they'd echo something back.

and still, nothing.

you left,
and all that was left
was the sound of me
trying to turn pain
into something pretty.

but silence doesn't sing.
it just stays.
and I'm tired
of trying to make music
out of things that don't want to be beautiful.