Sometimes I think of you when I wake up,
but not always.
Sometimes I think of you when the sun is bright,
but not always.
Sometimes I think of you when mornings are foggy,
but not always.
Sometimes I think of you when there’s a chill in the air,
but not always.
Sometimes I see the light strokes of pen on page and think of your skin,
but not always.
Sometimes I see the shiny red of your hair painted throughout the sunsets,
but not always.
Sometimes I hear laughter and wonder if that’s what you would sound like,
but not always.
Sometimes I think of you,
maybe always.
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 2:06 AM UTC
i could tell
i wasn’t first
just somewhere after
whatever didn’t work out
and i stayed
longer than i should have
waiting to be chosen
without hesitation
i am loved,
i think
but love shouldn’t feel
like being next in line
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 3:16 AM UTC
you are there
in the quiet parts of my day
not loudly,
not enough to stop anything,
just enough
to be constant
i don’t reach for you anymore
but somehow
i don’t let go either
you show up
in between thoughts
like something unfinished
and i’ve stopped asking why
some people just stay
not in your life
but in your mind
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 7:51 AM UTC
to be trapped
inside your own body
is the scariest feeling.
eyes staring out into the horizon,
no ability to communicate.
you want to tell someone how you feel,
but how do you describe dissociation
without sounding like an idiot?
you sit in front of the mirror,
staring into your lifeless eyes,
and all you can think
is how the hell do i get out?
Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 8:39 PM UTC
i kept your picture open
longer than i meant to.
not because i didn’t know
how to close it,
but because closing it
felt too much like admitting
you weren’t coming back.
there is something strange
about choosing what hurts you.
about staying still
inside something
that has already ended.
i told myself
this was enough.
a memory i could return to,
a version of you
that couldn’t leave again.
we accept the love
we think we deserve,
and i must have believed
i deserved something distant,
something untouchable,
something that only existed
when i wasn’t really living my life.
so i stayed there
in the glow of a screen,
tracing your face
like it could remember me
if i looked long enough.
i wondered
if you ever did the same.
paused somewhere in your day,
held still by a moment
we used to share.
i think that’s why
it’s so hard to leave.
because in this small, frozen place,
i don’t have to face
what i accepted
just to keep you.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 4:35 AM UTC
in a world where i am so blessed
why do i still feel empty?
in a world where i should be so happy
why am i so sad?
in a world where i am so loved
why do i still feel so lonely?
what world do i belong to?
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 6:13 AM UTC
there is a space in me now
that wasn’t there before.
it isn’t loud.
it doesn’t ache all the time.
it just exists,
like a chair pulled slightly away from the table
that no one has pushed back in.
when you left
you didn’t take everything.
you left the habits,
the reflex to pick up the phone and tell you things,
the instinct to save the better story for later.
my heart still works.
it still wakes me up in the morning.
it still carries me through rooms,
and conversations,
and days that look normal from the outside.
but every now and then
i feel the edge of what’s missing.
a quiet hollow
where your voice used to rest,
where your presence fit
without effort.
sometimes in the softest part of the night,
i reach toward that empty place
and understand
that loving you
reshaped me.
now i am learning
how to live
with the outline
of someone
who is no longer here.
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 6:55 AM UTC
you disappeared without a sound,
no closing door,
no final sentence
to tell me where to place the ending.
sometimes i imagine you
walking through another version of life
where I don’t exist at all,
where my name never crosses your mind
the way yours lingers in mine.
i look for you in small things.
songs that feel familiar,
crowded streets in a city you don’t even live in,
places we would enjoy together.
it’s strange how absence has weight.
how it follows me home,
sits beside me quietly,
waiting for me to notice it again.
i wonder if you are happy
or just busy learning how to forget.
i wonder if you ever reach for your phone
and stop halfway,
remembering there is no reason to call.
without you
the map of my days feels wrong,
like i’m walking paths
that used to lead somewhere
and now just keep going.
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 1:34 AM UTC
i like your eyes
not because they’re rare
or the kind people write about,
but because they stay
quiet and steady,
like they know i’ll figure things out eventually.
when i look into them
the noise softens.
i forget what i was going to say.
your eyes don’t demand anything from me.
they just look back,
and somehow that feels like being chosen.
if i had to name a favourite place,
it would be that pause
when our eyes meet,
and nothing else needs to happen.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 7:06 AM UTC
you feel like home.
a feeling i haven’t felt within someone else
until i met you.
a calming surrender in your eyes
that could bring me to my knees.
even if you carried medusas curse,
i’d still want to stare into your eyes
so my stone body can gaze into perfection for eternity.
if i had a flower for everytime i thought about you,
i could walk through my garden forever.
if there is another lifetime,
i would stand where i first saw you
hoping to meet you again.
everyone has their own idea of perfection,
mine is you.
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 1:17 AM UTC