Some Songs

Some songs you leave playing because silence hurts worse.
Weary eyes catch morning light through dirty blinds.
Coffee warms my hands and I decide to stay.

Sunrise paints the wall without asking permission.
Beauty in broken things doesn't wait for you to be ready.
I find my voice somewhere in the static.

Music drowns the ache almost.
I let the melody settle on my skin like a debt I owe myself.
A bittersweet accounting of all that's been lost.

Yet in the quiet between notes, something hums back.
Not hope exactly.
More like a pulse that refuses to quit arguing.

A weary heart beats on.

--Vera