The question, “Do I really miss you?”
feels like a weighty confession, but it often shows
I long for the days when I could call you my girl –
a title I never thought much of it before

The question, “Do I truly miss you?”
feels like a daunting truth, but it often shows
Missing someone is always a struggle –
but the emptiness of not having that someone
to miss, hurts a little more.

“Do I really miss you?” Absolutely, and I despise
that sensation; I wish to stop missing you altogether –

I don’t want to miss you anymore.

Falling in love – like a leaf caught in a whimsical breeze,
Falling short on my words, falling away from myself,
Falling apart into pieces, to find a place in your heart…

I always try to match the taste of your tongue, each time
We ignite a spark beneath the glow of hopeful affection –
We’re adrift, far from the depths of true love; yet we declare
  It with every beat of our hungry hearts.

The heart can be cruel – yet yours is a tale I’ve been unravelling,
Woven with verses and hidden sonnets. You might have glimpsed
My own, despite its rough edges, or the rhythm it desperately
Tries to convey.

How wonderful it was to share the illusion of love.

I rummaged through my wallet, checking if my card
was still nestled safely inside. “Yep, it’s here,” I muttered,
counting the cash I had on hand, just in case the card
decided to let me down.

Ah, our first date; my nerves were a whirlwind,
as I had never really ventured out with girls before.
A milestone in so many ways—my first date with a girl,
the inaugural use of my own credit card, and the first
time my hard-earned money spent on someone other
than myself or my parents.

And if I play my cards right, it might just
lead to our first kiss.

Remnants of ash linger –
a pair of cigarettes from our history;
memories tucked away in an ashtray –

“What a hell of a life,”
breathed in right after quarrels, and less
often after moments of passion.

Still hooked on one another.

“Goodbye,”
is a lengthier term than the simple “Hie,”
Yet the act of saying goodbye feels short-lived –
at least that’s my wish each time I must part
ways with you.
For in that brief moment of saying goodbye,
I always hold onto the hope that we’ll soon
exchange a cheerful “Hie” once more.

I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, because
I can already picture how this tale unfolds.
You’ll be off touring the world –
I’ll be the devoted fan, chasing you from one
destination to the very next.

Waiting in all of your memories, but you won’t
notice me at any of the bus stops along the way.
It seems we both have to find a way to let go.

Facebook has taken a break –
Now the darker side of me begins to emerge
As I struggle to remember birthdays without a nudge.

I can’t throw shade at an ex on X anymore,
As I’m deprived of the mindless scrolling, that feeds
A sickening eye on open to doubt Instagram feeds.

The relentless ticking of time feels slower
Without TikTok, and now I’m left to view my own
Insecurities without the distraction of YouTube.

We are merely shards of glass nestled in the branches—
delicate leaves that, when they tumble to the earth,
shatter our very essence.

In my gaze, you appear so fragmented, like a
reflection staring back at another reflection—
between the two, who is truly more lost in the haze?