A Flower Thirsting For Rain

In the glow of a screen, we found each other, two souls adrift in the vastness, spilling into the digital ether, each keystroke a heartbeat, Sometimes, I trace the outline of your face in my imagination, wondering what your laughter sounds like when the world is quiet. I close my eyes, and in the space between breaths, I can almost feel you near, like the warmth of sun on a chilly day. Wrapping in the paradox of wanting, a paradox of needing you while feeling lost, wondering if love is meant to be a bridge or a barrier— a connection or a chasm, I watch the tides of your indifference wash over me, We share the same air, yet I breathe in isolation, I hold on, clinging to the fragments of us, I wait, sometimes, like a flower thirsting for the rain, for those sweet drops of recognition, Affection twisted into chains, words once sweet turned bitter, I danced to the tune of your demands. You painted love in shades of gray, where silence screamed louder than shouts, and I learned to read the spaces between your messages, the pauses heavy with threats I wore your anger like a second skin, bruised by your absence, by the moments you left me hanging, the coldness that filled my chest when I dared to question, to seek the warmth I craved My heart a target, your quips sharp, a game of power, I searched for solace, a flicker of kindness, but the glow was dim— the ghost of you whispering, “Stay.” You left without a proper goodbye, just a ghost in the chat, your absence a cold draft, No closure in the fading light, just echoes bouncing in the void, questions hanging like dust, settling in spaces once filled with hope You said you loved me, wrapped my heart in ribbons, you vanished like smoke, leaving me in the aftermath, a ghost town of memories, You love me fiercely, but only when your hands are stained with the colors of my pain.