I saw your reflection in the mirror,
and in that moment,
our hearts met.
We became friends,
two hearts carrying the same wound.
We spoke of our parents,
gone too soon,
their absence a silence
we both carried inside.
Loss was our common ground,
a language we understood
without needing words.
But grief is heavy,
and broken hearts cannot
always lift each other.
We were fragile,
fractured in ways love
could not mend.
We could not be the cure
for what time itself
has yet to heal.
And so we drifted,
not from anger,
not from fault,
but because sorrow
was the only thing
we truly shared.
Forgive me…
I had only a broken heart to give,
and all it could offer
was less than you deserved.
I wish it could have been more.
forgive me…
Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 8:47 PM UTC
I saw your reflection in the mirror,
and in that moment,
our hearts met.
We became friends,
two hearts carrying the same wound.
We spoke of our parents,
gone too soon,
their absence a silence
we both carried inside.
Loss was our common ground,
a language we understood
without needing words.
But grief is heavy,
and broken hearts cannot
always lift each other.
We were fragile,
fractured in ways love
could not mend.
We could not be the cure
for what time itself
has yet to heal.
And so we drifted,
not from anger,
not from fault,
but because sorrow
was the only thing
we truly shared.
Forgive me…
I had only a broken heart to give,
and all it could offer
was less than you deserved.
I wish it could have been more.
forgive me…
Request permission to use this poem