Tag: poetry

Would you forget the stars
if they do not shine?
Would you forget the moon
when it does not illuminate the dark?
Would you forget the waves
when the storm is calm?

Would you?

Would you forget the hand
that held you in the night?
Would you forget the kisses
that kept you alive?
Would you remember her
once everything in your life is alright?

Would you?

Stand on my shadow.
I bridge the gap,
I’ll be your border,
your river’s flow.
Stand on my shadow,
I promise you will find your way.

I am the breeze between heartbeats,
the breath before a name is spoken.
I hold your weight without breaking,
shape your silence into poetry.

I am invisible in daylight,
the chill beneath your feet,
a whisper that steadies your worries
when the road forgets where it leads.

I am not your light,
I am what lets you see it.
Not the storm,
but the shore that waits through it.

Stand on my shadow.
Let it carry your steps.
I’ll be the echo
of every bridge you cross.

I became a handwritten note in your margin,
not important enough for a page,
but enough to be noticed.
Somewhere between a thought and forgetting,
somewhere between underlining and erasing,
I waited for your eyes to pause
and find me
between the lines.

Love light needs more than a shadow
A flickering flame, one last breath
A ceiling filled with moonlight
If this is what you were waiting for
Listen to the ghost of me, whispering
Dimmed beneath the weight of forever
Your golden lies, your diamond tears
A kaleidoscope of rejection
No, indeed
Love light needs more than just a shadow.

He came like heat
slow at first
then everywhere.

His breath
a fever on my skin.
His hands
the only storm I craved.

Nights burned
no sleep
just the rhythm of want
and the salt of surrender.

I drank him like July
mouth open
heart undone.

I breathe in what he left behind
his essence between my sheets
his last kiss in my dreams.

You return in the stillness between thoughts,
uninvited, never refused,
ma douce mélancolie,
the ache I wear like silk at dusk.

You stay close,
not touching,
but near enough
that my edges fray.

And I
call it peace,
though it is only you
curling into the quiet with me.

You didn’t leave.
You simply
unhappened.

No mark.
No altered light.
Just space behaving
as if nothing had passed.

Chairs stayed where they were.
My hands forgot
what to do
with air.

This isn’t absence.
This isn’t echo.
It’s the pause
I never asked for.

It begins with a smile.
Not the kind tossed across rooms like coins,
but one that lingers,
heavy with the promise of nothing
and the pull of everything.

He has not spoken.
Still, she imagines the weight of his head
in her lap,
fingertips learning him slowly,
not to change,
only to remember.

She maps him in silence,
temple to jaw,
lip to shadow,
sketching softness into memory
before time has the chance
to steal it.

Around them,
the bar hums with other lives.
Glass meets glass,
laughter rises and disappears.
But the moment folds in on itself.
He is all she sees.

She does not ask for his name.
What she wants
cannot be said aloud.
She wants the curve of his smile
when no one is watching,
the way his eyes quiet
once they stop searching
for shelter.

She is already tucking him away
into the folds of a night
that may never return,
a single thread
she will keep pulling
long after it frays.

She watches him watching her
as if the silence between them
has already chosen them both.
The song playing becomes
the sound of now.

Only this night.
Maybe another.
Him and her,
brief as breath,
real as flame.

And it all begins
with a smile
at the bar.

I am out of feathers to cover my scars,
So I hide myself in something sheer.
I press against the fractured light
Beguiling me into a world I barely know.
But I cannot see it through teary eyes.
And yet, I feel sunshine kiss my skin.
Through the veil, I listen to your sleepless whispers.
I am waiting for the rain to wash off the past.
I will remember how to rise
Until then I rest in silence.

I am standing on pennies to grow out of my fears. There is no reflection in the river and no moon in the sky. But I keep breathing. Deep. Deeper still. If I knew where you are, if I recognized your star… Are you there or am I not? I am going up and I am going down until I wake up with a movie behind my eyes. I don’t belong under your skin or between your sheets. I finish my drink and put more pennies under my feet to grow out of my fears.

I stand in front of me
in my nakedness
and see the scars
I put there myself.

One day, I will forget myself.
I am not my home.
No diamonds
brighten my night.

My whispers are words I do not trust,
and my silence is a wound I dare not show,
a skin made of memories,
lost fingerprints, without a trace.

I am learning to stay in the rooms I used to flee,
naming the shadows as if they were mine.
There is no sound, only breath,
and my soul breaking.

I cannot remember the sky
and I do not feel the stars anymore.
Did I become the parasite
in a host of discarded thoughts?

Before the memories fade,
I see the silhouette
of your fingertips
reaching for me.

Is it a mirage?
Maybe I am going blind.
I am losing my tears
in a heap of your words.

Your voice
so silent
it threatens to leave me deaf.

I disappear
in your mind,
forgotten
in a desert of ice.

Skin after skin is shed,
no layers left.

One day,
I will hold on
to a soap bubble,
and it will take me away.

But my whispers are too loud.

The bubble burst.

(may 1st 2025)