I miss her —
the girl who used to laugh
like sunlight breaking through tired clouds,
who dreamed in colors too bright for this grey world,
who believed that kindness could heal anything.
She was sweet —
a little gullible, maybe,
but her heart was an open sky,
and her hope was contagious.
She wanted to change the world —
and for a while, she changed mine.
Now I stand before the mirror,
eyes tracing a stranger’s face,
wondering where she went,
the girl who once lived behind these same eyes.
I’m afraid to look too long —
afraid I might not find her,
afraid I already know I won’t.
She was everything I wanted to be —
strong, alive,
full of wild, trembling light.
And though time has dimmed her glow,
her laughter still echoes somewhere
in the quiet corners of me.
I miss her.
I miss me.
---
Oct 29, 2025
Oct 29, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
I miss her —
the girl who used to laugh
like sunlight breaking through tired clouds,
who dreamed in colors too bright for this grey world,
who believed that kindness could heal anything.
She was sweet —
a little gullible, maybe,
but her heart was an open sky,
and her hope was contagious.
She wanted to change the world —
and for a while, she changed mine.
Now I stand before the mirror,
eyes tracing a stranger’s face,
wondering where she went,
the girl who once lived behind these same eyes.
I’m afraid to look too long —
afraid I might not find her,
afraid I already know I won’t.
She was everything I wanted to be —
strong, alive,
full of wild, trembling light.
And though time has dimmed her glow,
her laughter still echoes somewhere
in the quiet corners of me.
I miss her.
I miss me.
---