Pigeon of Heaven

This poem is about all the words we carry that never find their way to the person they belong to. There is something painful about wanting to reach someone who is no longer able to hear you. Wanting to tell them the truth of your days, your sadness, the ways their absence still quietly follows you, but finding yourself softening the words because even your grief feels too heavy to place in their hands. I think we spend a lot of time editing ourselves after loss. We remove the parts that hurt the most. We hide the sentences that reveal how deeply someone’s absence still lives within us. But sometimes the things we try hardest to erase are the very things that prove how much someone meant.