it's been a little over 1,095 days since the last time i've seen your face,
26,280 seconds more than what i last recalled.
the roads we last drove on was barren-
but my heart swelled with such tenderness flowers regurgitated back onto the roads,
making the last moment we shared slightly more bearable.
i wonder if i had begged you to stay here with me, if you'd have agreed to remain in this city -
a city where nothing ever happens.
or if i muster up the guts to say " i love you and only you,"
would the past 36 months have had me filled with joy?
i've lost count in counting the days in all honesty,
and i have no memory of the last time i prayed to God to bring you back to me.
you know all my regrets paints me blue,
along with the words i shoved down my throat that day in fear i'd become just another fleeting moment in time for you.
cause maybe by the time you're in another state, every last trace you had of me would vanish along the 1,050 miles you'd drive til you reached a new home, a home without any traces of me- of us.
but if i were to have no regrets,
if i were her again at 19, i would shamelessly say
"before you go, could you please leave me some tulips that smells like honey?"
then when you'd look me in the eyes and grin,
i know you would have understand what i meant,
yes you would know exactly what i meant.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 7:34 PM UTC
Dad takes the backroads,roads that bend and wander,that don’t rush to arrive anywhere.
Twenty-five, the fastest he’ll go,sometimes less,like he’s stretching the distance on purpose,like time might loosen its gripif he drives slow enough.
At every turn,his hands steady on the wheel,corners taken with quiet precision
while he hums.
He carried this with himacross state lines,through places that never stayed long enoughto be called home.
I never understood it then.The unnecessary backroads.
But now,in the quiet between destinations,I think I do.
Maybe it gave him space to breathe—one extra minute to clear his thoughts,where no expectations had to be met,getting lost without a destination.
Maybe each miletook a little weight with it,carried it off into neighborhoods and empty roadsno one else would notice.
Maybe this is what time looks likewhen you learn how to hold it gently.
Because now,without thinking,I miss the turn that would get me home faster.
I choose the road that curves,that lingers,that lets the silence stretch.
And somewhere between one mileand the next,
I’m certain of this,
I’m not lost.
I’m just taking the backroads
home.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 7:59 PM UTC
i wanna love you. i do.
not merely because i want miracles, power, success, or anything deemed glorious by human nature.
i wanna love you.
i wanna love you the way a newborn baby smiles at the sound of their mother's voice,
how the safety net between best friends
enables them to share their deepest secrets,
how soulmates comforts one another
without the need for words.
i wanna smile at the thought of you,
talk about the parts of me still yet unknown even to myself,
and find tranquility in the still silence of your presence.
yes, i wanna love you more -
but more than that, i just wanna love you better-
with sincerity,
with honesty,
with reverent.
i wanna love you because you're just that easy to love.
love you without any intention of gains for myself,
but rather with a love that derived naturally
in response to your love for me.
a love certain through the highs and lows of a relationship,
and i wanna love you simply because you're you.
i wanna love you for who you are
just as you love me as i am.
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 11:43 PM UTC
if heaven cease to exist,
but you were there on that cross
would i still choose you?
if heaven was never promised
when i declared you as my lord and savior
would i still want you?
if I knew heaven was a person and not just a place,
would i still give my life to you?
if heaven and its treasures amounted to all of my desires but at the cost of losing you,
would i still love you?
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 3:05 AM UTC
I’ve heard people say
the more you love, the more you lose—
but love, to me, feels like holding the world in my palms.
When I love you,
I feel the pulse of everything,
how life arranges itself
so perfectly in its imperfection.
The sun rises just to meet the day,
the moon wanes only to return,
the cicadas sleep until their song begins,
the clouds weep and then disappear,
the leaves let go, then bloom again.
Although I may not always get to love you,
I can still find love in them,
falling in love
with every one of these—
all because I loved you first.
So perhaps love isn’t loss at all.
Perhaps the more you love,
the more you hold
—and the more you become.
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 2:48 AM UTC