I met her like a whispered thought,
a friend I never searched but caught.
Across the screen, her words took flight,
familiar as dawn, as soft as night.

It’s strange to know a soul so deep,
as if she’s one I’ve vowed to keep.
Her laughter’s light, her silence strong,
and with her, somehow, I belong.

She stumbles through her love and pain,
her heart caught out in summer rain.
I see her scars, the dreams she hides,
the hope that falters, then decides.

And here I stand, a friend, a shore,
steady when her heart feels sore.
I’ll be her calm, her solid ground,
when life spins fast and thoughts run loud.

She’s a gift in my world, that’s what I see—
and no matter where she’s meant to be,
I’ll hold her close, through loss and bend,
this friendship bound, her constant friend.

I look in the mirror, but I don’t see light,
only edges and flaws that never feel right.
A stranger stares back, hollow and worn,
a version of me, weathered and torn.

I'm wrapped in shadows I cannot shake,
each breath, each move, another mistake.
No matter the path, it’s crooked, unclear,
each choice I make draws someone near—

near enough to see too deep,
the scars I bury, the secrets I keep.
It’s hard to love when I barely exist,
a voice in the dark, a half-closed fist.

I try to be whole, to breathe, to stand,
but my words turn to dust before they land.
I’m scared of my skin, my thoughts, my name,
of wanting love but drowning in shame.

Every step feels one step wrong,
a broken note in someone else’s song.
I’m lost in myself, tangled and tied,
a shadow trying so hard to hide.

Is there something in me worth holding tight?
A sliver of hope, a crack of light?
Or am I just fading, day by day,
afraid to be seen, yet too scared to stay?

I walk on glass, afraid to break
the careful peace I’ve tried to make.
Each word I speak, each move I choose
feels like a line I’m scared to lose.

I hold my breath, I check, rewind,
searching for faults I hope you won’t find.
One slip, one step, and I might see
the end of you, the end of me.

Your love’s a gift I barely trust,
so pure and deep, so fierce and just.
Yet here I am, afraid I'll scar
the thing I need, the thing you are.

But love’s not glass, it’s tough and true,
so maybe there's space for me and you—
for flawed and broken, for trying again,
to build a love that fear can’t bend.

Across the miles, you’re close, yet far,
a voice I hold like a falling star.
I trace your words in the empty night,
hoping they'll stay, hoping they’re right.

You’re threads of gold across the sea,
a dream I keep, a need in me.
In whispered calls and scattered time,
I’ve bound my heart to the rhythm of rhyme.

Each goodbye tastes bittersweet,
a thousand chances left incomplete.
And still, I cling, afraid to know
if letting go is letting go.

But love—our love—is a wild, fierce thing,
it weathers distance, every sting.
So here I wait, though fear may grow,
I hold you close and won’t let go.