I don't know what to call it
unrequited love , maybe
One sided  for sure,
You occupied a space in my heart ,
A drug i couldn't resist ,
A habit forming one.

I longed for your smile ,
Those ocean eyes
Glittering with mischief ,
your stare gave me butterflies
And awoke an extinct part of me

Small details,
like acknowledging my name ,
Made me feel seen ,
Like i mattered .
You opened a gate
Between imagery and realism

I had long nights
Creating our world ,
Where we dominated
And no one else mattered
Yet you had another world -
One i wasn't included in

Still i let you occupy me ,
Even when my mind whispered .
My heart was busy resisting,
And now i doubt
If you even noticed me .

But no_
I will never regret meeting you .
You will always be apart of me ,
Just like a book
I will always refer to .

So this is goodbye ,
From a girl who once felt seen,
Who was ready to give her all ,
Yet was let down .

Sometimes
some people aren't meant to stay .
They are stories left unfinished ,
Those with no final chapters.
Maybe that's what you were

Maybe it's time i choose me
Over us
My dreams over him _
Because i deserve great things .
I always did .

I knew you’d never cross my way,
yet hope deceived my heart each day.
My heart holds only your memories true,
my eyes just illusions, still painted of you,
a ghost of love that chose to stay.

I felt your skin
strip away from me-
you said you’d be right back-
as you slipped into foreign bodies,
lips soft with easy dinners,
who forgot the lightbulb burning out,
the lid left rattling on the counter,
a suit of pots dented, stacked,
steam lifting from a rust-ringed drain.

That studio in the Texas Riviera
was never meant to last-
brown carpet, AC rattling,
bass beating through drywall,
neon from the Whataburger sign
bleeding through blinds.
We were two beautiful accidents
in a month-to-month, always paid late,
your sweat a spell pressed into my skin,
ankles grinding on parking lot gravel,
the road outside a forgotten promise.

And when you smiled I held you
like a chipped glass,
rim still sharp enough to cut.
The ember died against porcelain,
the glitter was swept with the crumbs.
Your armor slumped in the pantry corner,
rusted tins, lids unfastened.
You walked away, naked and ordinary,
the light left buzzing in the kitchen-
outside, asphalt slicked with oil-sheen,
my body, also, dissolved
into the shimmer of the road.

Maybe time has made you give up

He wasnt there for you and it set an example of what you didnt want to be

Maybe time gave up on you

Life is but just a number.
A day given, to each and every man.
A day to be born.
A day to die.
But each day is just a number.
So as each man knows not the numbers of his days.
Let's live each day, with love and care.

Past is never forgotten;
time only teaches
how to live with it.

The future is not free
from the clutches
of the past.

Past is a mirror
within the soul—
unbroken,
omnipresent,
always there
to remind us
of what is left behind.

Raking leaves--walnut, maple, mulberry, ailanthus--
I saw how it was.

My dog Molly--sweet, skittish, a rescue--
knew the Aussie was the favorite.

She hid his favorite toy in a pile of leaves,
but not well enough--I saved it.

When we were finished, all the leaves at the curb,
the toy was gone, second time the wicked charm.

When you lose something--you lose the place you were
when you first saw it, who you were with, what you were doing.

Fragile things can fall and shatter and when you see them broken
your heart can break a little too--and there's nothing you can do.

I am thinking about broken things, lost things, hidden things.
The leaves have fallen, grown again, fallen again.

My Aussie is gone and the pure clear blue of September sky,
the lofted toy, and Molly too, have all passed.

Today I sit outside, careful with the mug on the chair arm,
even knowing that everything--and I as well--will fall in time.

Help Me,
From Myself.