he would be embarrassed to know
how long i’ve spent thinking
about what we could’ve been
if fear hadn’t been my loudest voice.

we had a rhythm, a quiet pattern:
i came home from school,
he went to practice,
i carved silence into my skin
and pushed my body to forget him.
when he got back,
we practiced our instruments separately,
but he was always the reason
i tried so hard to be better.

then we’d talk—god, we’d talk.
he knew me,
better than anyone ever has,
better than anyone ever will.
sometimes i wonder if he still could.

nobody understands
that soon it will be a year ago
since he wished me happy birthday
and i fell in love
it’s january once more
and that means everything begins again
but nothing feels new

december 26 is the saddest day of the year.
the wrapping paper is gone, the songs have faded.
yesterday, the house was full of light,
but now it feels hollow,
like joy was something borrowed
and the owner came to collect.

it’s the inevitable comedown of christmas.
a year stretches out before you,
but you know it won’t be the same.
the world moves on,
the magic grows thinner,
and you’re left holding memories
that feel heavier than the wait.

the year unwraps its brightest cheer
in frosted lights and candle’s glow,
as christmas waits till we’re all near,
its warmth the last the year will show.

the story saves its sweetest line
for when the pages nearly close,
the song crescendos one last time,
the crowd erupts, the music goes.

the journey feels like it’s complete
when weary feet at last arrive,
and even meals reserve their treat
for final bites that make us thrive.

why does the best so often wait,
as if to tease, as if to mend?
perhaps it’s just life’s quiet way
of saying joy is worth the end.

i felt
happy
today

i will not
let myself
ruin it