The Letter

I never knew you, but I knew your name It drifted through rooms like a half-healed pain They said you had friends, said you lit up the place I asked one of them why, she said, “God only knows,” and looked away They talk about you like a photograph Tall and thin, blue eyes—as if that’s the math As if beauty makes the ending strange As if being “ideal” should’ve kept you safe Your family cried, your friends came undone Some people made it about themselves, some about the gun But all I see is a question that never had rest Could you have lived without the one thing you thought you needed best? I imagine a life you never got to try A job you’d love, a partner by your side Little hands, a house with open doors But would those dreams have quieted the ache you wore? Forty years passed, the world’s rearranged Some things got better, some just learned new names There’s fires we breathe now, there’s wars on the screen At least you didn’t have to live through all these in-betweens They say time explains, but time just shows How little we ever really know Pain doesn’t need permission or proof It just asks for somewhere to move I won’t pretend I hold the truth Or that staying is always something you can choose I see you standing at the edge of then Trying to survive what you were already in I understand, or close enough to say You weren’t weak, you weren’t wrong, you weren’t broken that day If peace was the reason you reached for the light I won’t call it a failure—I’ll call it a fight I never knew you, but I speak your name Not in anger, not in shame Just this quiet grace I send to you You didn’t do anything wrong You really didn’t. music: Suno lyrics: Hope Wolfe and Suno #songs #remember