Soft Remains A cracked circle of porcelain powder pressed soft as memory. Fractured like the years that folded into silence A flicker of grace In a life that demanded too much This was her rebellion, A small defiance to the world She wore more than makeup— She wore strength in quiet layers A delicate shield against the weight of unseen battles She touched it as if it were a prayer A quiet ritual. A fragile shell holding dust and the ghost of her touch Delicate fingers tracing The contours of life Powder scent lingers— Faint as a sigh I search for the echo of her touch These fractured histories We carry silently. It sits in my hands Not an object, but a weight, The quiet inheritance of love, loss, and survival. I keep the silence she left behind Carry her forward— And wear her strength Even when it breaks.
