there you are,
a melody too sharp for the strings of this world
barefoot in my heart,
talking in riddles, lighting cigarettes like prophecies.
i loved you like rain loves stone,
again and again,
knowing you will never stay
but there you are in my soul
in the hotel music of Montenegro,
in the girl laughing in Egypt,
in the coffe that burns my lip in Sarandë
you never left.
you said my name like a dare,
as if i could ever leave the room
without carrying pieces of you in my chest,
rattling around like a broken bottle
we were a myth they whisper in cities,
where the wine is warm
and the night is still young
You
the girl who kissed like a revolution
and argued like the ocean
Me
always drowning, always returning to your ocean
if i wrote you now,
you’d laugh and ask what the hell i want,
and i'd say,
“just to hear your words break on the word sorry.”
but you and i
two boomerangs,
a prayer half spoken in a foreign language
and still,
when the streetlight flickers
and Tamino moans through cheap speakers,
i think: (of you cause god you are everything)
not because i'm weak
but because loving you
was the one thing
i never regretted
you are the one i write to when love feels like something i once knew how to spell and i still think you are the most infuriating, most beautiful story i never got to finish.
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 5:42 PM UTC
there you are,
a melody too sharp for the strings of this world
barefoot in my heart,
talking in riddles, lighting cigarettes like prophecies.
i loved you like rain loves stone,
again and again,
knowing you will never stay
but there you are in my soul
in the hotel music of Montenegro,
in the girl laughing in Egypt,
in the coffe that burns my lip in Sarandë
you never left.
you said my name like a dare,
as if i could ever leave the room
without carrying pieces of you in my chest,
rattling around like a broken bottle
we were a myth they whisper in cities,
where the wine is warm
and the night is still young
You
the girl who kissed like a revolution
and argued like the ocean
Me
always drowning, always returning to your ocean
if i wrote you now,
you’d laugh and ask what the hell i want,
and i'd say,
“just to hear your words break on the word sorry.”
but you and i
two boomerangs,
a prayer half spoken in a foreign language
and still,
when the streetlight flickers
and Tamino moans through cheap speakers,
i think: (of you cause god you are everything)
not because i'm weak
but because loving you
was the one thing
i never regretted
you are the one i write to when love feels like something i once knew how to spell and i still think you are the most infuriating, most beautiful story i never got to finish.
Request permission to use this poem