I stand between almost hating you—
a hatred that leaves lashes on my skin,
marks where my tears
carve their quiet paths
down my cheeks—
and loving you completely,
so completely
that I am devoured by it,
sinking again and again
into the memories of you.
That room—
those same lights
that once made a sanctuary
now hold me like a prison
built from moments
I still refuse to release.
I am always close
to falling in love again—
My knees buckle
when I remember the days
you still said my name
as if it belonged to you.
Me—
the one you left behind
like something easily discarded,
as though we had not stood
together on the edge of a
different and happier future.
Not the love you
share with a friend but a
love that would choose me
over and over
I would have loved you
deeply and truthfully
despite your flaws
because in the end,
we all have them.
I believed yours were
worth staying for.
Now everything is unfinished.
And after the hardships,
the lies,
the truths you chose to keep hidden,
I remain here alone—
like a little girl
holding out her hand
only to have it refused,
silence trailing behind her
like a shadow.
I miss your presence
after the long weight of a hard day,
the way spring
aches for the sun.
I miss you
when a song
opens its heart,
when I pass a place
I would have taken you,
when a meal tastes
like something you
should have shared with me.
And sometimes I wonder
if your heart ever trembled
the way mine did.
Maybe I was only a
dopamine rush—
someone to keep you company
to distract you from the restless storms
inside your mind.
Maybe I was only a moment.
While you—
you were my world,
and everything beyond it.