still here
these stars
what might they look like
in places where i used to be
old homes and destinations
i always needed to depart
their shimmer
is it that much brighter?
without enough of me
to recognize
myself at night
when i look at the clouds to find
that stars are callous
unconcerned
about me or the yous i lost
no future now worth speaking of
just little lamps
and bland emotions
the usual, you might say

if solitude were virtue
would this for once not make me
a somebody to reckon with

under dust; reclaiming
the leaves, with all their colors,
and deeper yet this certainty:
she still knows
how to smile

if you’re like me
you tend to see
the doors
that close
perpetually

the forest smell
is not
for clarity and focus
but dear to
you
and me (not many yet
the two
who count)

shared thoughts however murky
remain
when leaves have gone

elusive-wheezing though
some traps are permanent
they cling; i drift away
can never be a whole
a dreamt-up version of
however flawed i am

“what did you carve” she asked
in vague uncertainty
“reminders” did i answer
but left unfinished without means
to fill such things with warmth
a frown yet understanding too
she smiled “you live your way”
aware that what was lost
feels grander than the gained

that day we both still whispered
“right here we will be waiting”
and then in different worlds confined
we quietly set out to wait

made some point when i said
'this is it'
and wished for these to be my
most impactful words