Late at night, when distant memories surface, she pulls at the tug of nostalgia.

In a different life, maybe they stood a chance. Maybe she didn’t walk away. Maybe he didn’t let her leave.

In a different world, maybe they could have been. Maybe she would have kissed him. Maybe he would have fought for her.

In a different universe, maybe they’re in love. Maybe she’s his heartbeat. Maybe he’s her home.

Your love is
mesmeric like
smoke rising off
the lake in the soft
moonlight.

To have a friend,
to have someone to care for you,
is a weakness,
it makes you vulnerable,
but to be alone,
to have no one,
gives you nothing left,
and you're still vulnerable,
I want someone there for me,
but I don't want to risk it,
I don't want to be it,
vulnerable