Left behind like the wind
May be not too far away
left behind like the wind
Like the moon light shadows me
Everywhere I go
There is a piece of agony
That follows me
Left behind like the wind
A stream that rushes in my body
Not knowing what to do
Fireflies dance in my head
yet no light in my mind
Left behind like the wind
Where the stone is stuck deep inside
Even a single leaf so still, not to move
as the leaf of life sleeps upon my lips
Left behind like the wind
You came into my life
like a hunger I never knew I had,
and somehow
I began craving something
I could never have.
There was something beautiful
about the danger in you,
something I knew
I should stay away from,
yet still found myself
walking closer.
Maybe I saw myself in you.
The darkness,
the loneliness,
the parts we keep hidden
behind a smile.
You were never mine,
but somehow
you left pieces of yourself
inside me.
And now I wonder—
was I drawn to you
because you were different,
or because you carried
the same emptiness
I had been trying to hide?
Maybe some people
are not meant to stay.
Maybe they're only meant
to awaken something in us,
then leave us
to deal with the hunger
they created.
And if that's what you were—
I still don't regret
meeting you.
Remember why you left, leaving behind what you left behind.
Smoke getting thicker with each passing breath in this line.
Weight becomes heavier, close to crushing one’s chest.
Slowly it happens; time passes with no rest.
Glancing at the clock, screaming, “I got this all wrong.”
Doors close when shut and open once received.
Barefoot is the one who stands on hot coals and refuses to leave.
Stagnant is the one who was given the tools but did not receive.
Washing up like seashells often do upon the shore,
most are similar to another.
But the rare ones are able to whisper unspoken secrets to the waves,
having the sea return answers only an ocean would know.
The constant pull, the true ebb and flow.
The instrumental foundation of lyrics being revealed to the soul.
A frequency within, decoding the heart.
When one track ends, the next track starts.
I keep searching for the moment
where I must have gone wrong,
rewinding every conversation
like a song with a missing verse.
I look for a warning sign,
a hidden meaning in your words,
a reason buried somewhere
between the last “goodnight”
and the silence that followed.
But you disappeared
without a storm,
without a goodbye,
without giving my heart
a place to put the questions.
You left me standing
at a door you quietly closed,
holding memories
you were already walking away from.
I wonder if you know
how loud silence can be—
how many times I checked my phone
hoping your name would appear,
hoping an explanation would come
and make the emptiness make sense.
The hardest part wasn’t losing you;
it was losing you without knowing why.
It was realizing I was searching
for answers from someone
who chose not to give them.
Maybe one day I’ll stop asking
what I did to deserve the distance.
Maybe I’ll understand
that some people leave
not because we weren’t enough,
but because they didn’t know how to stay.
Still, I hope you remember me
as someone who cared,
someone who showed up,
someone who deserved
more than a goodbye
that never came.
She sits in the marrow of the
quiet house,
stirring cappuccino coffee unit it
grows cold under her
thumb.
His closet door stands wide,
an open throat
exhaling the faint, stolen
scent of cedar and old wool,
while across town, his keys
clink on a different kitchen
counter.
She watches the dust motes
drift through the heavy
shafts of afternoon light,
each one a tiny, forgotten
universe slowing down to
die,
trapped inside the stillness
he left behind when he
chose a younger woman.
The telegraph has forgotten
how to ring, so she speaks
only to the walls,
her voice a thin scraping of
dry leaves against the
floorboards.
She does not wash the
mirror because her own
eyes look back like
strangers,
hollowed out by the shadow
of the woman who took her
place.
When darkness falls, she
wraps herself in the heavy
quilt of her own grief,
listening to the house creak
and settle into its permanent
isolation.
She closes her eyes not to
sleep, but disappear,
wishing the night would
swallow the remainder of her name.
What happens to those emotions
that suddenly lose their way?
That was meant to be
but disappeared abruptly
by the decision taken by one!
What happens to those feelings?
Okay, the one who is not changed
tries to get back, tries to resolve,
shouts, cries, or writes poetry!
But what do the others do who take this abrupt decision?
How can they just put an end suddenly
and start not to feel those emotions from the next day?
What do they do with those emotions?
Or while leaving they gifted their own emotional baggage to the one who left behind?
and that's why the one who stays
feels heavier than before,
that they can't raise their head
and spend months just doing nothing,
confining own in a room and lying in bed
neither like a corpse, nor alive, rather half dead.
Every morning,
Hope returns to the world.
Those who mark the day's arrival greet it,
Leaping out,
Moved by instinct,
Spreading wings,
Carried by the movement of others.
All waiting leads to this—
When the earth regains its vitality
Fallen leaves become fertilizer
Years flow past like water.
Caught between the two lines of days
In a black and white portrait
Endless, unmoved, unchanged—
"What is the meaning of greeting the sunrise?"
My sun is already down.
there is a space you left behind,
and it still calls your name,
like an empty room echoing with your laughter
i tried to fill it,
but nothing fits
in the space you left behind
looking at someone new,
curly hair spilling like waves,
tracing the pattern of each curl,
while my eyes keep searching
for the straight lines of your hair,
for the way you were my summer
after my longest winter.
i tell my friends, “i hate him,”
but really, i don’t.
the only thing i hate
is the space you left.
i could never hate you—
because there was nothing
about you to hate.
and maybe even because
i know i would let you back
into that space
in
a
heartbeat.
Like Jiri Mt., battered by the typhoon, its back worn and scarred,
Raising its body that once sprawled, gathering its breath,
An old building gropes through the darkening clouds.
Catching the pebbles hurled by the ashen sky,
Like a frail lion, losing its firmly clutched prey,
It fights its breath against the sharp wind, then coughs it out.
Perhaps it waits for the rain, steeped in longing.
You promised you’d come back,
To the girl you left behind,
Cause you let her turn into dark,
In the dawn of the night.
Why did you go out in the world,
To save it from the dead,
Is this our destiny,
For you to be the hero of the wild,
And me to be the girl you left behind.
When will you come back?
To the girl you left behind,
You saved the world, but will you save her?
From the water of the crazy,
Where she’s gonna drown endlessly.
Will you miss her?
The girl you left behind,
When she’ll fill her lungs with madness and suffering,
When she’ll become one with the wind,
And turn into the daughter of the mist.
I am the girl you left behind,
With flowers in her hair,
From the garden of our past,
An eternal thought of sadness,
That I can still see in your holy eyes,
Nameless, just a simple girl,
That eventually past you will arise,
But will never fall.
You left the chair, but not the room,
The silence clings, a flower in bloom.
The kettle waits muted, cold and dry,
Empty spaces haunt me as I go by.
No space is bare, if love stayed there,
Your breath floats in scented air.
Your shadow clings to every chair.
No space is bare - if love stayed there.
Your love shapes what’s left behind.
It pulls the door, draws the blind.
The cup you left, is still steaming.
Pictures on walls are still dreaming.
Your laughter still rings in all my rooms
Strumming our much-loved songs and tunes.
Fire’s died back to glowing ember coals,
Stoking the flames of everlasting souls.
You're gone, but you're carved in stone.
In every space you've left here alone.
The room still whispers your name.
Scrawled on every timber plank and frame.
One book alone, sags into space meant for two,
Your fingerprints trace the vital clue,
That I long to be - back with you.
Your space is here, when you break-through.
No space is bare, if love stayed there,
Your breath floats in scented air.
Your shadow clings to every chair.
No space is bare - if love stayed there!
No space is bare - if love stayed there!
The things she left behind
Her tombstone stood amongst others
who shared the same fate
The air in the cemetery
Heavy With the the weight of the souls it carries
Her epigraph read: Beloved mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend
Her family there to pay their respects
Tomorrow they will lead a protest
Her son left behind
A seven year old child
Old enough to remember her
But to young to understand her murder
She took with her the sacrifice
she did so her son could have a better life
A future where he's accepted
Where racism she hoped for him would be a distant memory
She hoped the hate was a burden he wouldn't have to carry
A hard choice she made
But an easy choice she made
As long as her baby boy was safe
A life well lived
Or a life fearing death
She knew how she wanted his story to end
A sacrifice she would never regret
She left behind Her son
An embodiment of who she was
She left behind Her legacy
A reflection of her memory
He lived in her
She lived in him
And for her that was a victory
You said you didn’t want to hurt me,
But you did it anyway,
You said you loved me,
But you put me through this.
You told me you weren’t ready,
And that you need time for yourself,
But if you weren’t ready,
Why’d you say yes?
You break my heart,
And then act like everything is fine,
You expect me to be okay,
But you hurt me too much.
I only have feelings for you,
You’re the only one I’ve ever truly loved,
You said you loved me,
But you left me behind.
Am I not pretty enough to show off to your friends?
Or not popular enough to turn heads?
Am I just not enough for you?
Is that why you left me behind?
The world got caught under her breath
They could never hear her precious mumbling, only realized when she left
One second she was there
One second she was floating in timeless air
In a wisp of whimsical space
She would show her elegant face
A polaroid of a perfect smile
Commanding regretful tears and remembrance of all the distant years
Her blood was on the hands of many,
No one predicted the coming tragedy
Her life not quite a blissful blur
But rather a silent stab of sadness
She left no note or collective clues
That might have calmed you
No lying lyrics that provoked pointless pity in
Some that might have said torturing her was comedy
She only left a small reminder to anyone who could find her
And that is this…
“Dying is easy my friend, living is harder.”
a locked door, one light,
pages full of almosts and
songs I never sang.
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