Words dancing in my mind. ******* on my tongue. My pen hesitates and nothing comes. I've been like this since you've been gone. There hasn't been a moment where the words I want to say flow out in a perfect way. I try to write the poems you loved so much but for some reason all this poetry turns to trash. I try to work on that story but it just seems so jumbled up and stupid. For some reason nothing is adding up together or the connections that are supposed to be don't fall to place. The words I need are meaningless and empty. And here I sit staring at this page, only ink stains remain.

One day when I’m walking in the sun,
and the rays of the sun warm my shoulders,
I will know you are looking down at me,
shining your bright rays of hope into my heart.

I will look up and see your smile,
and your “Husky stubbornness” too,
sneaking through your mischievous grin,
as if to say ‘I love you’
then I will take a deep breath and,
smile right back at you,
a secret moment shared between two buddies,
that can’t be expressed in words.

You were one of a kind, very unique,
unlike any other dog I’ve met,
You had your own ways of showing,
your love, kindness and affection,
You did not jump on my lap,
or lick my face into a slobbery mess,
You did not ‘speak’ like other huskies,
but talk we did, all the time, you and me,
in our own unique parlance.

You were a scaredy cat, yes you were,
afraid of the slightest rustle of the leaves,
one little noise is all it took,
for you to rush back to Mimi,
and hide behind her back.

You were a gentle one, weren’t you, my love?
never have I heard you raise your voice,
or growl at another dog,
the word ‘mean’ was foreign to you,
Love was the only sentiment you knew.

you had your own way with everyone,
Anishka was your pack leader,
always to be obeyed,
he taught you all the skills you know,
So he was to be honored and held in high esteem.

Mimi was your Mom,
the one you went to for all your needs,
because you knew that in her loving embrace,
was where you would always find,
a gentle kiss and a warm hug.

For your part, you took upon yourself,
the role of “Mimi Protecter”,
self-appointed though this responsibility was,
you embraced it with utmost seriousness,
Mimi was to be protected at all costs,
She was never to be left behind,
you had to make sure that she was in the car,
before you got in yourself.

then there was Tha…

hmm… where do we put Tha?
Tha was your pal, your buddy,
your comrade and your partner in crime,
When you were in the mood to play,
Tha was your go-to-guy.

when you felt like going on a midnight stroll,
in the dead of winter at 2 o’clock in the morning,
in minus 15 weather,
for no valid reason whatsoever,
except that you simply felt like walking,
Tha was your man.

ah yes, me dressed up in 19 different items of clothing,
and you, yes you, you were buck naked,
prancing merrily in the snow,
while I was shuddering in the bitter cold.

ah but these are the moments I cherish,
those unplanned moments of beautiful comradery,
whether it’s wandering through the forest utterly lost,
or swimming across a scream to get back on the hiking trail,
or running away from a mother bear protecting her cubs
we did it together and we did it our way, didn’t we?

From now on, in our hearts is where you will live,
we will forever love you with the purest love we know,
we did not rescue you from a shelter,
but you rescued us with your love.
this is not ‘goodbye’ my love,
it’s simple ‘see you later’.

I sit at the summit where silence begins,
on the edge of a whisper the forest sends in
the hush of green breath cradling my frame,
as if the Earth knows me by name.

Above, the sky yawns wide with grace,
a cathedral of blue where I lose my face
no more the boy who hides his ache,
just a soul the breeze dares not break.

Below me, roots entwine like arms
gentle with my weight, immune to harm.
They don’t ask why I can’t stay still,
why rest feels like a swallow of pills.

Because motion motion is mercy to me.
In steps and sprints, I am finally free.
Each forward breath, a sacred escape
from thoughts that linger in shadows’ shape.

But in the stillness, in this quiet wood,
grief presses its face to my pulse and blood.
Memories ungrieved, like ghosts unmet,
pull up chairs in my chest and do not forget.

Stillness does not ask if I am ready
it enters like dusk, quiet and steady.
It holds me hostage in fields of thought,
where every loss I’ve buried is caught.

There once was a day when we both wore stripes
Distinct lines that undeniably connected us to each other.
Mine had already shifted to black.
Yours were still a light gray –
Soft and subtle.

Now I watch you stand on your own.
Head held high with understated confidence.
Be it sincere or feigned,
doesn't matter.
You're clad in plaid –
Infused with the stripes and lines embracing you all around as contributing designers silently admire in awe.

The black tee underneath —
the closest visible cloth to your heart —
pulls it all together.
You keep it concealed and dear,
Yet show enough to share.
Constant reminder.
We all know it's the reason we're here.

There will come a day
When your whole ensemble is painted
With every hue and shape imaginable.
The influences of past, present, and future
All melded into one stunning garment -
The monarch knows no such splendor.

Soon enough, the black tee will be cast to the side and long forgotten -
Inevitably replaced with an everlasting warm embrace.

Never again will I hear you say,
"I hate change."

Like a tattoo
in the apple of my eye,
their memory is etched
deep into my heart.
When I open my eyes,
I see their story—
how they entered my world,
how their presence
made my heart dance.
My smile stretched wide,
echoing the joy
that bloomed in my chest.

And then—
it hits me.
They’re gone.

Maybe in their memory,
I’m no more than a footprint
at the edge of the ocean,
erased
by the current
of newer tides.

But why?
I whisper to myself,
cradling the ache
of what never became.
Was any of it real?
Or was it only me—
lonely,
seeing love
in everything that breathed?

My heart bleeds...
but let it.
Maybe when it’s dry,
the hurting will stop.
Then again,
perhaps my memory
will fade too—
like a shadow
sinking with the sun.

Maybe we aren’t meant
to hold too tightly
to the ones we meet
in this brief life...

Still—
I miss them.

By Setty Leon

How do you forgive a ghost?

They speak no words.
They never say sorry.
They can never look you in the eye. 
They never stay long enough to watch how much it hurts.

You disappeared from my life.
Without fixing the chaos you caused.

I write letters I’ll never say.
Say goodbyes no one will ever hear.
Cry tears no one will ever wipe away.

You’re a ghost, but your fingerprints will never leave my skin.
You slammed the door shut, but your name still haunts the room.

How do you forgive someone that was never there?

You vanished before I learned to scream.
Now I only whisper.
Whispering “I forgive you”
Whispering broken promises, shattering before they were ever made.

You were supposed to stay.
You etched promises into my skin then peeled them off when my skin became too hard.
Like a coward.
Like a ghost.
I didn’t get a goodbye.
I didn’t get an explanation.
All I got was a lie.
Perfectly crafted by you.

I trusted you.
“She said she would come back.”
“She told me that I was the only thing that mattered.”
The vicious thoughts echoed in my head, swirling around like the wind in a storm.

I scream into empty spaces, hoping it’ll give me closure.
I cry in lone rooms, hoping someone will comfort me.

How do you forgive someone that never existed?

I searched for you everywhere.
But you're gone.
You left as soon as the opportunity arose.
I know you’ll never come back.

Maybe one day I’ll forget who you were.
But right now, I grieve you like a ghost who never died.

I mourn the person I once knew.
I mourn the memories we shared.
I mourn my love for you.

Because at one point, you were all that mattered.
Until you tore yourself from me.

The silence you left still screams at me.
Filling the air with words you never said.

I rehearsed every word I would say to you.
Every scream.
Every cry.
Every conversation.
I practiced every day.
And yet, they never entered the lonely atmosphere.

You took pieces of me I never knew.
I know that I’ll never get them back.
I search for the missing puzzle pieces in other people.
But they never seem to fit the hole in my heart.
In my soul.
In my identity.

Instead, I replaced them with hope.
Hatred.
Resentment.
Because I gave up on waiting for you.

Maybe you weren’t the ghost.
Maybe I am.
Maybe that’s why no one ever seems to notice.

I hate that no one else sees you.
I hate how you only appear in the mirror.
I hate how you look like me.
I hate how, in the end, it’s just me looking back. 

I wonder if ghosts can forgive too.
Do you miss me?
Do you even still care?
Or am I the one that’s haunting the past?
Am I the one who vanished years ago?
Or maybe, just maybe, am I still holding on to the little hope I have left?
Hoping you’ll come back?

Maybe I don’t forgive you.
Maybe forgiveness isn’t something for the dead.

I keep watering a dead grave, hoping something will grow.
Nothing ever does.
And still, I keep trying.
I keep trying, day and night.
Weeks on end.

Because deep down,
I know that if I stop,
Someone else will water the grave.
And something will grow.

Maybe flowers will bloom.
Maybe weeds will sprout.
It could be something wild, untamed.
Something exciting.
Something that grows without needing to be loved.

But it won’t be from me.
It wasn’t my love that helped the grave grow.
It wasn’t mine.
And that kills me.

I wonder to myself.
Why won’t the grave give me something exciting?
Why won’t it grow beautiful plants for me?

Why do all my efforts of trying to make something memorable always go unnoticed?

Maybe I’m not watering a grave anymore.
Maybe I’m burying myself.
And maybe I won’t ever get out.

I know it’s time to let go.
But I can’t.

So instead,
I wait everyday.
Hoping.
Believing something will grow.