I did not board the train this time
its whistle soft as a wish I once made
before learning the cost of arrival

There were other hands to hold,
small rooms to fill with quiet work,
a garden of dreams still waiting to bloom
in the soil I help tend each day

The map stretched wide with longing,
but I folded it neatly beside the bills,
between the unopened letters
and the list of things love asks us to carry

Not all journeys begin when the door opens.
Some begin when we choose to stay—
when we say: not yet,
with a voice that still believes in someday

Let the wind have its turn
Let the stars wait a little longer
What is meant for me
will find me walking—
with full hands,
and an open heart

someone said,
“at least now you can heal.”
but healing feels
like folding laundry
for a house that’s half empty
and pretending it’s enough

among the skyscrapers my mind wander
how narrow my sight was
to only surmise what one might feel
realizing there are more to conquer
so i take a step back
revisiting another possible tracks i could take

it's still there
sitting still inside those bars
the pages we drew together
not yet finished
will it still sit there
to many more chapters together, as they say
or
will it be covered in dusts
somewhere no one knows it exists

wretched
the thought of another ends
wishing the wheels retract
though it's out of our hands
they say let go of the illusion
that the past won't be different
but still there will be seconds
of our life, thinking
it could have been any different
would it be any different?

it's in  the mind
of billions of stars
some make it till the end
some lose its way
be that as it may
it forges them eyes awake

what is sorry
a word?
an act?
it's just a blur to me right now
overused
no meaning
gone