fcksmtlsn

We just sit in the silence.

Two shadows in a room

Trying hard not to break it.

You trace circles on my hand

Like you’ve memorized it.

And if you let go first

Then it might all cave in.

But we both know this is what it is.

And I hope somebody holds you

Like I used.

And I hope they see the magic

Like I still do.

So baby tell me

is it time to move on?

Cause I’m not the one you call anymore.

Running low on our time,

Broken down and half alive.

So now I’ll love you from the other side.

We don’t say any of it out loud.

Love shouldn’t feel like

We’re drowning just to stay afloat.

If holding on means hurting you

And staying means we slowly lose,

Then maybe letting go is mercy

Even if it ruins me and you.

I’ll learn how not to call

When something good goes wrong

I’ll delete the little things

That still feel like our song.

I’ll pretend I don’t check

Who you’re with or where you’ve been.

Like it doesn’t pull the air

Right out of my lungs again.

I hope somebody holds you

Like I used to do.

And I hope they see the magic

The way I always do.

If loving you means stepping back

And letting someone else have that,

Then maybe that’s what love is

Even if it ruins me.

If I see you on a street someday

I’ll smile like I’m okay

Like I didn’t memorize your laugh

Or the freckles on your face.

And if you ever look for me

In the crowd on a Friday night,

I’ll be somewhere in the back row

With my eyes already locked on you.

So we’ll move on

But that doesn’t mean goodbye.

Some loves don’t get the story

They just learn how to survive.

And I’ll always be the one

Who knew you inside

Even if I’m never

The one by your side.

We might not get forever,

But you’ll have my whole life.

In the quiet of my heart

Where I still keep you tied

I’ll always love you

Burn my fingers on our past, memories of me and you

You left me with no warning signs, just a ghost out in the rain

Now I’m stitching up my skin where you used to carve your name

I kept the ashes, held on too tight

Thought my pain was bulletproof

every memory starts to fade

But I’m still learning to walk away from you

I thought our love was bulletproof

But I’m stuck here searching for you

You feel like fire

And I kept running to the flame

My scars they burn

But still I’m here screaming your name

I swore it’d never end this way

Gave you pieces, I’m to blame

Watched me burn, hoping you’d save me

Wont last another day when

You feel like fire

But I can’t keep burning every day

I found peace in the silence after the storm

You haunt like perfume I no longer wear

You’re everywhere and nowhere

I loved you like a wildfire blind

But love should never leave you behind

Now I’m breathing on my own

I would wrap you in a shelter built from my ribcage,

keep you safe from the fractured shadows

that prowl the corridors of my mind.

I would be a lantern in your darkness,

a steady flame that never flickers,

a guardian against the ghosts

that still whisper my name in the night.

I am nothing but a mold of old wounds,

walls painted with memories I wish I could unlearn.

Every echo in me is a relic of a war

I never chose to fight,

yet here I stand,

a survivor wearing the armor of yesterday.

And then

you arrived.

You, with your sunlit patience

and the gentle gravity in your hands,

laugher that fills the room with light

and hope and love,

pulling me back from the edges

where I have lived for far too long.

If I knew how to love better, I would-

and for you, I will strip the thorns from my hands,

lay my scars bare in the open air,

and let you touch the places I swore no one would ever see.

I will fight the ghosts until my voice breaks,

drag my demons into the light and name them one by one,

so they no longer have power over the way I hold you.

You make the air taste softer.

You thread light into the cracks,

and for the first time in years

I see my reflection without flinching.

I am still jagged,

still stitched together with trembling hope,

but in your eyes,

I am something worth mending.

If you will wait-

time will carve away the ruin,

will sand my sharpness into something tender.

I will learn to unclench,

to give love without bleeding from the effort.

I will keep my demons at the door

and teach them silence

so your nights will be unbroken.

Stay-

and I will learn to love without fear,

to breathe without the weight of the past on my chest.

I will give you every sunrise my heart can make,

every quiet night where you feel safe in my arms.

If I knew how to love better, I would—

and for you, I will tear the rust from my soul,

unlearn every cruel thing I’ve ever believed about myself.

And though my hands still shake from yesterday’s storms,

I will hold you with the steadiness.

I will love you until the ghosts are gone,

until the war inside me is nothing but quiet—

and even then,

I will keep loving you.

If I knew how to love better, I would-

but because of you,

how I wake and reach for you in shadows

only to find emptiness staring back.

I said goodbye,

but my heart never learned how to let go.

It still beats in your direction,

like some foolish compass

that only knows one true north.

I tell myself to settle for friendship,

to tuck my love into smaller boxes,

to call you just a friend

when every bone in me screams more.

But God, it burns.

Because even when I smile at you,

I am breaking quietly inside,

mourning what we were,

and aching for what we could still be.

Now I stand here, soul unraveling,

mourning not only the love we lost

but the you I no longer hold in my every day.

It is a strange kind of death -

to watch someone you adore

become a ghost that still breathes,

still walks this earth,

but no longer reaches for you.

I don’t want to erase us.

I don’t want to pretend the fire

never consumed us whole.

I want to believe love can rise again -

bruised, yes,

but stronger,

like something that has walked through hell

and refused to die.

So here I stand,

bare, unguarded,

asking you if there’s a way

we can find each other once more.

Not as strangers,

not as ghosts,

but as two souls who’ve been broken

and still choose, against all reason,

to try again.

Because the truth is simple,

and it is brutal -

I would rather spend a lifetime

fighting for your love

than an eternity

a ghost I never invited,

a whisper that refuses to fade.

It lingers in the fabric of my clothes,

woven into every thread,

a quiet echo of the night I last held you

and didn’t yet know it was the last.

Your laughter -

once sunlight breaking through everything

now drifts like smoke through my mind,

thinning, fading, hollow.

The songs you hummed beneath your breath

still tremble in the hollow of my chest,

and I lie awake inside the emptiness you left behind,

a body made of longing and the memory of sound.

Tears come without permission -

in the middle of conversations,

in the hum of the refrigerator,

in the places where your name used to live.

Every simple thing becomes sacred,

a relic of what we were.

Like scars I can’t stop touching,

these memories burn and comfort me in equal measure.

And I am haunted

by the sight of you pulling away,

down my driveway and out of my life.

Your tail lights dimmed like the last heartbeat of the universe,

and I stood there, small and breaking,

watching my forever drive away.

To once hold you,

and now only grasp at air,

is a pain language was never built to hold.

You gathered the broken parts of me

and made them something beautiful,

and still I destroyed it -

clawing at my own skin,

ashamed of how deeply I could love,

terrified of what it revealed,

afraid of the reflection you saw in me.

To love you and never touch you again

is a wound that will never close.

Your absence has teeth -

it devours the quiet,

the hours,

the air itself.

I wake each morning and find myself

half-alive in the ruins of what we were.

And yet… I still reach for you in the dark.

Still whisper your name like prayer or curse.

Still dream of your hands finding mine again,

if only to say goodbye properly.

This is the kind of love that kills -

not suddenly, but slowly.

A death by remembering.

A death by devotion.

A death by you.

A death by me.

And if love is a requiem, then mine will never end -

for to love you was to lose you,

and I will spend the rest of my life

learning how to forgive myself for that.

But even if forgiveness ever finds its way to me,

I will spend every breath aching beneath its mercy -

because I was never meant to live in a universe without you.

An unseen thread that binds, yet frays in silence,

Aching—agonizing—when no pull is felt from the other end.

I gaze upon the stars and think only of you,

Their shimmer an echo of the light once alive in your eyes,

Infinite, unfathomable—like the galaxies that dwell between us.

My chest is a tomb of hollowness,

Each breath a ghost that whispers your name.

I wait—desperate—for the faintest pull,

A trembling reminder that you still exist on the other side of this fragile string.

I beg the heavens for a star to fall,

To tell me, “she is thinking of you too.”

Entire constellations collapse within me,

Swallowed by the gravity of your absence.

There is no solace in the cosmos,

No sanctuary in the chaos of the night.

Only shadow.

Only silence.

Only the echo of what was once warm.

My skin has forgotten the language of your touch.

My mind screams in the quiet between heartbeats,

Each thought louder than the distance that divides us.

The universe conspired once to bring us together.

Perhaps it was fate,

That fleeting moment you sat beside me.

But tell me, my love,

Why does the universe now twist its hands

To wrench us apart?

I lie awake beneath a dying sky,

Thread in hand, heart unraveling,

Waiting for a tremor—

For the smallest sign—

From the other end of a string

That has remained motionless

Since the night

But five turned into a lifetime

where I waited in paused breath—

a purgatory of hope.

Two years slipped through cracked hands,

and all that remains

is absence dressed like memory.

You told me,

“Say you won’t leave me lonely,”

but I was loneliest beside you—

cradling your hollow promises

like they meant something holy.

You needed devotion,

not love.

And I gave you both,

until I bled.

You played me

like a record stuck on repeat,

a game you never meant to win.

You wore your loneliness

like perfume,

and I was the fool

who inhaled it too deeply.

You never deserved me.

But I gave you temples

and burned incense to your name

like a god I hoped would stay.

I spoke to the moon—

not because it listened,

but because you never did.

Asked it what we meant,

what you meant.

It said nothing.

And in that silence,

I saw the truth.

I thought we’d kiss forever—

but even our lips lied.

Now there’s a new letter

gracing your throat—

another vow, another life.

And still,

I speak to the night

with venom tucked behind my teeth.

I’m so lovely,

aren’t I?

So composed,

so tragic.

Telling myself I’m over it

while I sing to the same moon

that watched me break.

Hatred sits gently beside heartbreak—

they hold hands

where you used to hold me.

And I taste you

in every curse I whisper

like a wine I can’t stop drinking.

Your name

is poison on my tongue.

But I still say it.

Because that’s the paradox:

you ruined me

so beautifully

that I still

a hesitant ballet of parting hands.

Paused—just briefly—

as if memory might anchor you

to the threshold of what we once called home.

But I remained unmoved,

a breath caught in the purgatory

between staying and surrender.

My silence—

louder than any elegy

whispered at the end of love.

There were galaxies trembling behind my lips,

entire universes of truth and ache,

but fear—merciless and cunning—

loosened the hold I kept on hope.

And love, that fragile, flickering thing,

drifted through the open door

like ash from a fire long since dimmed.

Everything I didn’t say

still drips from the rafters of this hollow gray—

like perfume clinging to winter’s breath,

a specter of what never came to be.

Unsung confessions, undone hearts,

a quiet war waged without a single blade.

You dissolved into the haze

with every word I was too afraid

to give away.

I watched your shadow abandon the floor,

the echo of your leaving

reverberating through the doorframe—

an aftershock of something sacred breaking.

You glanced once more,

a silent question lingering in your gaze,

but I had turned to stone

while setting you free.

I could have said,

“You are my necessity,

my undoing, my cathedral of longing.”

But need is a blade

that cuts as deep as love,

and I was bleeding already.

So I swallowed what was real,

consumed it in the hollows of my chest,

and left you with nothing

you could hold.

Everything I didn’t say

clings to time in disarray—

like smoke that never finds the sky,

like prayers that fall

on ceilings too high.

Unwritten verses, unopened doors,

a battlefield where silence roars.

And you—

you walked away unaware

of the war I lost

and I—foolishly faithful—

answered with a kiss goodnight.

My fingers trailed the arc of your spine

like scripture I swore we’d survive,

as though love alone could guide us

through the unraveling hours of dawn.

But even then,

I felt the quiet fracturing—

delicate as snowfall,

merciless as fate.

A love too immense to sustain,

yet far too sacred

not to tremble in its presence.

I held you

while I let go.

Smiled as I fractured,

inch by hidden inch.

You never noticed the weight I bore—

the storm masked beneath the candlelight.

You called me your constant flame,

but I was rainfall,

weeping behind the curtain.

I loved you more

than my arms could contain.

So I held you…

while I let go.

You laughed like we had chapters left,

but I was reading

our final line.

You leaned in—

soft and unaware—

and I stayed silent.

Not every truth

has the courage

to arrive on time.

I offered you warmth

with trembling hands,

remained gentle

as I shattered inward.

I memorized your silhouette

against the ache of absence,

so I’d have something to carry—

something to keep me

from asking for more.

I held you

while I let go.

Wrapped you

in one last quiet glow.

You rested in the safety of my steadiness,

while I drowned just beneath the surface.

You thought we were learning peace.

I was learning how to float.

I loved you more

than you’ll ever know.

So I held you…

while I let go.

There is a kind of beauty

in the breaking—

in the farewells

we never dare to speak aloud.

Some hearts don’t leave with thunder;

they slip away

like echoes through a locked door.

I held you

while I let go—

lit the room with the last of my flame,

then quietly closed

the story only we knew how to write.

You believed I’d stay

until the last page,

but not all endings

announce themselves.

I loved you

with a depth unspoken—

a devotion

writ in shadows and silence.

And in the end,

I held you…

vast, aching sanctuaries

where your name lived

on every vaulted ceiling.

I carved our vows in silence,

in secret lines

only my soul could read.

But you,

you wandered through my reverence

and only saw the fractures.

I traced forever in your hands,

mapped constellations

from the tremble of your breath—

each star I lit

burned only for you.

But your gaze never lifted.

You left galaxies unanswered.

I would have given you my last name—

stitched it into every future

like gold into wounds.

I bore your storms

and your silences alike,

wore your chaos

like something holy.

But still—

you left me

undiscovered.

A forever

you refused to uncover.

You called me “too much”

when I offered everything.

But I was only whole

in a world that begs us to fracture.

I danced in your dissonance,

pleading—

one final chance

to be enough

for someone who never saw the art

in my unraveling.

I read your eyes

like sacred scripture.

But you erased me—

line by line,

word by trembling word.

You loved me only in echoes,

never in light.

Never when I reached to shine.

I sang in metaphors

you refused to hear.

I touched you with devotion

you mistook

for desperation.

You craved quiet.

I offered symphonies.

I would have given you

everything.

Laid my name at your altar,

turned our grief into architecture.

I could have made

your ruins feel like home.

But you chose the easy fiction,

the comfort of shallows,

over the depths

of what was real.

And now—

someone else will touch

the truths you feared.

They’ll find the gold

in the wreckage

where you only saw weight.

While you rewrite our collapse

as something inevitable,

I will rise

from the ashes

of the story you never finished.

I would have stayed

through wintered seasons,

held you through

every after.

I would have turned your wounds

into a canvas,

painted galaxies

where absence grew.

But you closed your eyes.

You chose fear.

And now I stand alone—

You’ll remember me in the silences,

in the ache of almost,

in the echo of someone

who saw you—

fully,

truly—

but whom you never chose

are the finest kind of remedy—

a temporary hush to the ache.

But there aren’t enough packs on this planet

to cauterize the aftertaste of you.

You linger—

not just on my lips,

but in the soft architecture of my ruin.

I breathe in embers just to pretend

I’m still holding something warm.

But smoke is a liar—

it wraps around my grief

like a lover who never meant to stay.

God, I miss you.

Not in the casual ache of memory,

but in the marrow—

in the cathedral of my chest

where your absence echoes like a hymn.

You haunt me in halflight,

in the silence between songs,

in the way I flinch

when someone else laughs like you.

This craving isn’t for nicotine.

It’s for the way your name once

fit so quietly between my breaths.

And I’d burn through every last cigarette

if I thought, for even a second,

you might come back

Day in and day out.

I’m exhausted but still

I let the thought of you run through my mind

All day.

I tell myself I hate you

But my heart reminds me just how much

I love you.

You were everything

And nothing

All at once.

I want you but

Can’t have you.

I need you but

Can’t find you.

I remember your skin on mine

And lose my sense of touch

All over again.

I can’t bear the thought

of someone feeling you

loving you

holding you.

My heart is heavy and my legs

Can no longer hold the weight.

You are everything

And now

My face is on the ground.

I wish I never met you.

A handful of stones and dirt. Earth.

Bleeding from my knuckles.

Agony rips through my skin

as tears fall to the ground.

The same ground we built a home on.

Together. But not together.

Forever. But nothings forever.

My heart skips a beat remembering moments

that now feel like another lifetime.

One where happiness waltzed in on its own accord.

No battles. No sadness. No heartbreak.

Dirt falls from the cracks in my fingers

and I’m once again left with nothing.

My empty hands so burdened,

carrying nothing but sadness.

writing and writing

engraving in my head

I wish I never met you.

And all at once,

my head hits the bed.

Knuckles are scarred,

Agony hides in plain sight.

My sadness is as heavy as

the gun in my hand.

As I write on this paper

I wish I never met you

every night I close my eyes and feel

the absence of you no longer here.

the bed is cold and quiet. lonely.

a place that no longer feels like home.

often times I lose myself in thoughts

wondering how much I will grow to forget.

or how much you will even remember

of us. of me.

you feel like a shadow. an jarring piece

of my mind tucked away.

often appearing at times

when I am never ready.

when I am trying to forget.

you appear and I am reminded all over again

of the absence you have left me with

and my heart breaks all over again.

it has been a month since I last heard

words fall from your lips.

it has been a month since my life

felt like I should be here.

what an ache it is in my chest

when I wake up and you are not here.

I am losing myself in missing you.

I am forgetting myself in trying to remember you.

how can it be that so much still revolves around you?