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arinedovwrites_2
17/F letters from a quieter world
Poems2
Words127
to: mom you sit at my table every day. sorry, our table. your table. you sit on the same chair you did the past 17 years of my life. But it feels like that chair is empty. like it wasn’t filled ever. like it’s missing something, someone. the chair is there. it is. but it is filled with the ghost of you. that ghost is all my “good memories” of you. but when your actions and words outshine that ghost, it disappears. and with it do all the good ones. And suddenly i don’t remember a thing. I don’t comprehend how i can loathe and love a person that has always been present but never a part of my life. And you don’t know how jealous i am. Oh, how jealous i am when i am over at my friend’s houses. And i sit at their tables, where they sit everyday and see the look on their mother’s faces. Because they aren’t ghosts, they are present, a constant. Who always sits at their tables and acts to make them happy. Maybe one day you can become that. But still there will always be a ghost sitting on the same chair, that is yours.
0
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 5:47 PM UTC
arinedovwrites_2
You sit at my table every day
to: mom you sit at my table every day. sorry, our table. your table. you sit on the same chair you did the past 17 years of my life. But it feels like that chair is empty. like it wasn’t filled ever. like it’s missing something, someone. the chair is there. it is. but it is filled with the ghost of you. that ghost is all my “good memories” of you. but when your actions and words outshine that ghost, it disappears. and with it do all the good ones. And suddenly i don’t remember a thing. I don’t comprehend how i can loathe and love a person that has always been present but never a part of my life. And you don’t know how jealous i am. Oh, how jealous i am when i am over at my friend’s houses. And i sit at their tables, where they sit everyday and see the look on their mother’s faces. Because they aren’t ghosts, they are present, a constant. Who always sits at their tables and acts to make them happy. Maybe one day you can become that. But still there will always be a ghost sitting on the same chair, that is yours.
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13
I try to deny it everyday. I tell my friends, family and myself that im over you. But that’s not true. See i have a feeling that a relationship, especially a first, is like a scar. Not a bad one, i wouldn’t call it that. No, for me it feels like a scar that you got while riding your bike and having the time of your life. Or one that you look back on and reminisce on what happened before it. The good things. As you might know i have a scar of us. Not just metaphorically but present on my left knee. Every time i look at it, the line and the two weird points, i think about everything. Us on that trip, my fall, the way you came to rescue me and told me it would heal. The way you carried me up the stairs and visited me while i was bare. My soul aching and heart breaking, because i couldn’t see anyone and nobody would visit me, but you. So i miss you every time i look at my knee, bend them and put on my jeans. Because i still miss you. So **** much and i try to deny it but it kills me to know, if you stay up. Late at night, like you used to. Or not. Maybe you’ve changed and have a good sleep schedule now, something we used to joke about, how we are both so messed up. As i lie awake late at night, because i can’t sleep, i never could. Except when you held me tight. I reminisce and realise that 5 months doesn’t mean **** I still miss you. Everyday. So **** much. And i don’t know how to stop.
0
Nov 13, 2025
Nov 13, 2025 at 5:38 PM UTC
arinedovwrites_2
Imy.
I try to deny it everyday. I tell my friends, family and myself that im over you. But that’s not true. See i have a feeling that a relationship, especially a first, is like a scar. Not a bad one, i wouldn’t call it that. No, for me it feels like a scar that you got while riding your bike and having the time of your life. Or one that you look back on and reminisce on what happened before it. The good things. As you might know i have a scar of us. Not just metaphorically but present on my left knee. Every time i look at it, the line and the two weird points, i think about everything. Us on that trip, my fall, the way you came to rescue me and told me it would heal. The way you carried me up the stairs and visited me while i was bare. My soul aching and heart breaking, because i couldn’t see anyone and nobody would visit me, but you. So i miss you every time i look at my knee, bend them and put on my jeans. Because i still miss you. So **** much and i try to deny it but it kills me to know, if you stay up. Late at night, like you used to. Or not. Maybe you’ve changed and have a good sleep schedule now, something we used to joke about, how we are both so messed up. As i lie awake late at night, because i can’t sleep, i never could. Except when you held me tight. I reminisce and realise that 5 months doesn’t mean **** I still miss you. Everyday. So **** much. And i don’t know how to stop.
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