Not everything ends with finality. Some things don’t shatter or break apart; they simply begin to fade. The volume lowers. The conversation slows. The words that were once spoken are now silent, and the certainty that once existed is slowly slipping into the unfamiliar, as time quietly erases what was once believed to be permanent.
Over time, as the words fade and the pauses grow longer, what once held meaning begins to feel hollow. The shape remains, but the meaning no longer fits. It softens over time, until it barely holds together. There is no clear moment to point to, no obvious ending to mark when it all began to change. Some connections slip away exactly like this. There was no fight, no farewell — only silence in the end.
This poem exists in the silence that follows what was never fully said. It lingers in the ache of something that once lived deeply between two people, but now only echoes.
Threaded Through Bone
By: Kerry Ann Wiley
Not all bonds are braided.
Some are threaded through bone —
too deep to untangle,
too quiet to break.
It split the sky.
One vow,
written in the wind.
Broken by standing still.
What was shared,
what was given,
was already gone.
Some call it love
Others call it faith
because it doesn’t answer.
There were mirrors,
but all showed different truths.
One steady,
one burning.
Full of silence.
Only the echo remains — the sound of grief
when it no longer remembers its name.
The Quiet Fade
This is not a poem about dramatic endings or obvious heartbreak. It doesn’t move in a clear or expected way. There is no betrayal, no sudden departure, no sharp realization; only the slow fading of what once felt certain. Instead, it looks at the quiet erosion of a bond that was never clearly defined but deeply felt.
The opening lines root the connection in the body. It is neither chosen nor named. It simply exists—unquestioned, steady, silent, and profound. It runs through to the bone. This kind of connection isn’t easily named, but its presence is undeniable. When it begins to shift, the pain that follows is just as real — even if it’s hard to explain.
Stillness That Unravels
One of the most telling lines in the poem is:
“Broken by standing still.”
Here, the fracture doesn’t come from conflict, but from inaction. Nothing is said. Nothing is done. The absence of effort becomes its own kind of breaking. Without movement, the bond can’t hold. Over time, stillness becomes silence — and silence becomes distance.
The poem suggests that some endings don’t come from a decision, but from neglect. When nothing is offered, nothing can be sustained. What once felt sacred fades quietly, simply because it’s been left untouched for too long.
Misaligned Reflections
Midway through the poem, the tone shifts again:
“There were mirrors,
but all showed different truths.”
This is where disconnection deepens into distortion. Two people can be in the same space and still see completely different things. One may believe in the stability of the bond. The other may feel it slipping away. Yet neither of them finds the words to say what they see.
The silence isn’t empty. It is filled with assumptions, with separate truths. By the time either realizes the difference, the bond has already begun to dissolve.
The poem doesn’t assign blame. Instead, it traces the sadness that comes when two lives, once closely connected, begin to move in different directions. It captures the slow fading of shared understanding—not through conflict, but through gradual change.
Grief Without a Name
The poem closes with lines that speak to a particular kind of grief — one that outlasts its cause:
“Only the echo remains — the sound of grief
when it no longer remembers its name.”
This grief isn’t tied to a specific memory or a dramatic moment. It lingers in the body like background noise. It doesn’t have a clear shape, and most of the time, it arrives without warning.
It doesn’t disappear. It stirs beneath the silence, long after the rest has vanished. It’s not about refusing to let go—it’s about what doesn’t ask to be held.
Naming What Was Never Spoken
The poem ends, leaving the silence intact. It doesn’t try to unravel the past—only to acknowledge it. It recognizes a bond that mattered, even if it was never clearly defined.
When that kind of bond fades, it leaves no clarity; only grief without reason and absence without shape. What the poem offers is simple: a space for the unspeakable, a shape for the words that were never shared. When an ending never fully comes, absence becomes the only truth that remains.
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