Snow On Read

I’m cleaning up this half-lit room,

dust dancing like ghosts in the lamplight.

Phone screen cold… reels rolling on,

faces I don’t know flicker through the night.

Outside the snow keeps piling—

soft as secrets you never said.

And my inbox stays a graveyard,

your name still sharp inside my head.

So I’ll draw your shadow on the page tonight,

let the charcoal whisper where you used to be.

Every line a question I can’t answer right,

your quiet feels louder than you ever were with me.

Yeah, I’ll chase your outline ‘til the room turns blue,

’cause loving you was a riddle I never got to undo.

A cup of cold coffee watching me breathe,

blank canvas glowing like an open door.

Silence wraps the room in velvet—

I swear it knows your footsteps on the floor.

So I’ll draw your shadow on the page tonight,

let the snow fall heavy on the truth…

No texts, no signs, just graphite proof

that I still see you… even when you fade from view.