#memorieslinger
The cold has a memory —
it lingers in the corners of empty rooms,
settles into the spaces you once filled.
No matter how many layers I wear,
it finds a way to my skin,
a whisper of what used to be warmth.
The windows rattle,
the floor sighs under footsteps that aren’t yours,
and I tell myself it’s just the season.
But the truth is,
it’s not the winter that chills me —
it’s the memory of you.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 9:40 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.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 8:55 PM UTC