I deserve a better goodbye, you dummy,
not the half-hearted wave
nor the silence that followed—
a gap wider than the one between us.

You packed your bags, eyes averted,
as if the weight of words
was too heavy for your tongue,
a gravel road lacking a final sign.

I stood, a ghost at the edge,
watching memories dissolve like mist,
searching for a hint of regret
in the shadows of your retreat.

Did you know that goodbyes
could be more than whispered echoes?
A dance, a chance to linger,
one last joke, a shared smile.

Instead, I received a quiet room,
walls echoing with what-ifs,
and a heart that felt stitched together,
yet fraying at the seams.

I deserved a flourish,
a moment to savor the taste
of what we had,
not this bitter afterthought.

So, if you ever find your way back,
remember the laughter,
the warmth we once spun together,
and give me the goodbye we both deserve.

I wonder what I look like in your eyes,
a fleeting shadow,
or perhaps a spark,
dancing in the light of your laughter.

Do you see the colors that swirl
in the depths of my thoughts?
Like autumn leaves caught in a gentle breeze,
whispering secrets only the trees can hear.

I like you,
a simple truth wrapped in hesitation,
the weight of words
held back by the years of silence.

If I am a book,
what chapters have you read?
Do you linger on the pages
where dreams intertwine with reality,
or skip ahead to the verses
where heartbeats echo?

Sometimes, I catch your gaze,
a moment suspended in time,
wondering
if you can feel the warmth
that wraps around my heart
when you smile.

In your eyes,
do I become more than just a figure?
Perhaps a faded photograph,
or an unwritten poem
waiting for the ink to spill.

So here I stand,
still, uncertain, yet alive,
wondering what you see
and hoping
you like me back.

Even if my lips grow parched
I will still refuse to yield
to your rose red lips.
I will refuse their nectar,
your petals and your
siren scent.

What’s worse than loving you
but knowing I can’t have you?
Not the silence,
not the waiting,
not the ache that stretches across nights.

Even the stars fall quiet—
they know
there’s no sorrow deeper
than holding a love
that was never mine to keep.

Two months in,
and my thoughts are a carousel,
painted with your smile.

Sunlight catches in the curve of it,
every time I close my eyes,
a replay of our last conversation.

Love, maybe?
It hums a low tune in my chest,
a vibration only you can trigger.

Does he feel this tug?
But the notes are off-key sometimes,
a sweet melody with discordant chords.

Kind words,
gentle touches that linger just a beat too long,
then a step back.

Mixed signals flutter like butterflies,
beautiful, but confusing.

Daydreams bloom,
like roses and lilies tangled with thorns.

I navigate this garden with hesitant steps,
hoping for a clear path,
a simple yes, or no.