There is a space beside me
That has learned your shape.
It keeps it faithfully,
A chair that remembers the weight
Of someone who stood up,
And never quite left.
There is a silence in my chest
That knows the beat of your heart.
The knocking of a guest
On a door that remembers the feeling
Of someone who wanted in,
But never stepped inside.
There is a tenderness I keep
That feels like yours.
A feeling, silent and deep,
Like a photograph without a date,
Of someone standing close enough
To be missed forever.
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 2:37 PM UTC
There is a space beside me
That has learned your shape.
It keeps it faithfully,
A chair that remembers the weight
Of someone who stood up,
And never quite left.
There is a silence in my chest
That knows the beat of your heart.
The knocking of a guest
On a door that remembers the feeling
Of someone who wanted in,
But never stepped inside.
There is a tenderness I keep
That feels like yours.
A feeling, silent and deep,
Like a photograph without a date,
Of someone standing close enough
To be missed forever.
Very proud of this one. I think it conveys a melancholic love that I haven't captured in anything else.
