she's here,
in the photograph on my desk,
but not here at all.
she's there with me
frozen in a moment
before it all slipped away.
i trail
my fingers
over the glass,
and wonder if it was ever real.
the way we were,
before the knife went in.
before she twisted it
and let me bleed out
instead of offering
a hand.
i can’t shake the feeling
that she’s still here,
though she never will be again.
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 2:42 AM UTC
she's here,
in the photograph on my desk,
but not here at all.
she's there with me
frozen in a moment
before it all slipped away.
i trail
my fingers
over the glass,
and wonder if it was ever real.
the way we were,
before the knife went in.
before she twisted it
and let me bleed out
instead of offering
a hand.
i can’t shake the feeling
that she’s still here,
though she never will be again.