There are days when the past
hits me like an uninvited guest,
its presence sharp, unwelcome.
Memories once soft and warm
now turn into needles,
pricking at the places I thought were healed.
I remember laughter that filled the air,
and the way we used to talk like time had no hold on us.
But now those moments feel foreign,
like ghosts drifting in a forgotten room.
The sting of a kiss that meant everything
now lingers like a wound that refuses to close.
I wish I could erase it all,
but even the hurt holds pieces of us
that I’m not ready to let go of.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 8:55 PM UTC
There are days when the past
hits me like an uninvited guest,
its presence sharp, unwelcome.
Memories once soft and warm
now turn into needles,
pricking at the places I thought were healed.
I remember laughter that filled the air,
and the way we used to talk like time had no hold on us.
But now those moments feel foreign,
like ghosts drifting in a forgotten room.
The sting of a kiss that meant everything
now lingers like a wound that refuses to close.
I wish I could erase it all,
but even the hurt holds pieces of us
that I’m not ready to let go of.
