A year about to die, its breath so frail,
Thrilled with joy for the new, we unveil.
Friends with wishes, they come, then fade,
A passing warmth, a shadow they’ve made.

Let not the new year be born so fast,
Hold the old, let its moments last.
Unfulfilled dreams of meeting remain,
Cherished old days we cannot regain.

Likes and comments now reign supreme,
Physical touch—just a distant dream.
No more a friend at a breath away,
Replaced by screens that steal the day.

Let not the new year stack wishes in vain,
Of meetings over tea, joy unrestrained.
Let this year stay, refuse to part,
And heal the longing in every heart.

I’ve waited so long to talk to you.
I’ve messaged you and have waited
to hear back from you.
I am still waiting.
At this point, time isn’t a factor.
Even if I never hear anything,
I still will wait.

The closest I get to you now
is an algorithm.
Social media suggests you
as a new friend.
As much as I would love that—
to start over and pretend,
as painful as it sounds,
to love you in restriction,
trapped by some border,
like we’re strangers.

I stare at your picture and never
swipe the notification away.
In a way, it feels like old times.
The only thing missing is your voice.
You’re with me when I go to work,
you’re with me when I am in the car.
But nothing lasts forever.
By the time I wake up,
the notification is gone,
the screen is empty,
and you’re gone.

But your eyes—
the way that you smile—
have not left my memory.

I suppose I should be satisfied
with what I have now.
I’ve tried,
but I am not