Holocene

but I feel like I don’t belong anywhere.

It’s a strange feeling—

as if nothing fits me,

as if I don’t belong to any place at all.

Sometimes I wish I could be a bird,

so I could fly far away from everything.

I know it’s a sad thought,

but this is how I feel most of the time.

And then, when I close my eyes to sleep,

I think of you.

I remember everything—

every day we spent together,

the good memories and the bad ones too.

I could embrace you with all my heart.

I could feel you,

I could smell you,

I could feel your warmth.

And that makes me sad—

but also happier,

because in that moment you are near me,

and I am not alone anymore.

Sometimes I feel you are the only person

who has ever truly known me.

I know I should be open

to let more people into my life,

but in every corner I go,

I only see your face.

You hold my hand when I cross the road.

You dance with me to the sound of music.

I catch you smiling at me sometimes

while we eat at a restaurant.

I can still feel your eyes on me.

I don’t know what to do with this feeling anymore.

So I just embrace it.

I just accept it.

and their sound only saddened me.

As I put on my shoes that morning,

I felt completely empty,

as if I had nothing,

as if I had no one.

I had a few coins in a box,

a shadow and the shadows of my furniture,

I had the cold breeze,

which, so gentle, slipped in through the window

to try and console me.

The truth is, we go to bed wishing for a world,

but we wake up only hoping

all this time,

from anything that could lead me back to you.

But even the smallest thought of you arrives

like the wind carrying your scent,

like a smile that lights up the room,

like a voice spilling softly

into the melody I still ache to hear.

And I break into tears.

By pure distraction,

in a fleeting reflection,

your image appeared on the screen —

and suddenly,

there you were.

I couldn’t turn away.

Seeing you happy

lit something inside me,

and I smiled too,

because that is where I always wished you would be.

And in that light, I felt the truth:

there is still so much love inside me,

still beating, still alive,

and I want it to remain —

even if it means

Or simply manage to write at all.

But the words slip away.

They slip away when I catch myself watching people

walking hand in hand,

carrying all their heavy emotional luggage.

They slip away when I remember the sleepless nights

spent thinking too much

about everything I didn’t want to think about.

They slip away in the smallest details,

which always feel far too big.

I just wish I could find a corner of the world

that would take me in,

hold me close,

and whisper:

“it’s okay, it’s okay to lose your balance sometimes.”

I wish there were a corner of the world

that would simply let me stay quiet and warm,

when the rest of it decides to hurt me.

The pain of that memory burst in my chest like a bomb,

because I’ve been avoiding everything that could bring you back into my mind.

The movies we watched, the series we followed —

new episodes and sequels I can’t bring myself to continue,

because deep down, the last thing I want is to lose that connection with you.

That day, at the bus station,

you were there, standing still,

waiting for me to come back with our coffee,

holding our bags with that quiet patience of yours

that seemed to embrace time itself.

And I know I love you in a place full of light,

a place in my heart that belongs only to you —

I just want to wake up from this nightmare of being without you.

I just want to open my eyes and slowly see the outline of your body beside me —

not the pile of pillows I’ve been holding onto,

desperate to replace the only arms I ever wanted to be entangled in.

I just want to kill my boredom with you —

because the reason I’m bored now is that you’re no longer here to cure it.

I want to be able to say I’m sorry even when I’m not wrong,

just so I can slip between your crossed arms

and follow that path that always led to your lips.

I want to sit in silence with you,

because I never felt uncomfortable by your side,

even in the fullness of words left unspoken.

You made me want to live,

even when I was trying to destroy myself —

just so I could exist in the same world as you.

And all the words that were said,

and all the words left unsaid,

haunt me like a ghost trapped in the house where it was once happy.

And every sleepless night I spend,

remembering — you.

And I find myself whispering “I love you”

while staring out the open window,

but you’re not there.

And I cry while writing poems,

because writing is all I have left.

And I never got to say goodbye.

Think of me from time to time.

Take care.

inside me,

eating me slowly.

A regret.

A silent pain.

There are these dreams

calling me back to you

every night.

All these memories,

all this longing.

Your presence

still haunts me.

Your voice

rides the breeze.

But—

there’s no answer.

Only