By Shahriyer Hossain Shetu
No eyes to cry.
Only the weight of numb eyes.
Like a scream
That stopped just short
of the throat.
Somewhere, someone waits --
not to be found,
Just to be remembered.
There is a kind of loneliness
that doesn’t shout.
You sit in it.
Feed it.
Let it braid itself into your spine.
And when you try to speak,
even silence looks away.
The world keeps moving
like a feed you can’t pause.
It scrolls past your face,
your name,
your grief.
And you learn how to be present
without being anywhere.
Shahriyer Hossain Shetu is a Bangladeshi writer and researcher currently pursuing his Master’s in Sustainability Management at University of Waterloo, Canada.
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