you live still
in the blurred polaroids of my mind—
your face dissolving into silver,
mine into someone i cannot quite find.
i loved you once
with the fervour of an unwritten psalm,
and though the wanting has gone quiet,
the love still lingers, warm.
perhaps i miss you;
perhaps i miss the girl who loved you—
the softer version of myself
that time, like winter, outgrew.
we both became strangers
to the people we once knew,
yet i keep your photographs
the way old libraries keep books
whose endings they already knew.
i do not wish to have you again,
nor become who i was before—
i only wish i could tell that girl
she was worth loving, even more.
so let the polaroids remain blurred;
some things are kinder without view—
for sometimes, loving what we lost
means learning to love
who we became too.
I still hear the loud noise
of your quiet footsteps,
marked across unpolished,
weathered wooden floors.
Childhood suppressed expectations,
starved for genuine praise,
dwarfed by the presence
of a silence never broken.
My inner struggles suffocate,
captivated by the hidden door
latched forever
by decaying, hardened paint.
Scars of turmoil refuse to yield,
mercilessly triggered by this prison,
locked by the one key
still held by you.
A stitched fabric of fortitude—
resembling a carved brand of honor—
is the silent hero I grasp for
in moments of aching defiance.
When the weight of unimportance,
and callous neglect,
rears its ugly head,
demanding more
than my essence can endure.
Still, here I am.
Not asking for forgiveness.
Not asking for explanations.
I am letting go,
just like you did.
After all that’s happened
I never sat down to think.
I always wanted to push forward
and never looked back.
Who wants to sit down with pain?
Especially when all it does is hurt you.
It showed me parts of me I don’t like
and I try not to blame you.
Some days I curse you under my breath.
I daydream about if things had worked?
Then I get nightmares about doing that.
I try to think past the what ifs and
Accept what happened between us.
If I had the power to either forget you,
Or make you love me like I love you.
I’d choose to forget you.
Gasoline doesn’t control a dying flame.
You cut me deeply where the wound
Still feels the sear of your burning knife
As it thrusts right into my back,
With smoke burning my throat as it escapes
Despite all the pain, I don’t hold onto it.
Where would there be room for love,
If I choose to keep hating you?
Maybe we could’ve been friends,
If things didn’t turn out this way.
I can’t say I’m glad or upset that
We met under these circumstances.
All I have to say is, thank you
And I wish you good luck with
Everything.
The New Favorite
She looks great in my clothes, atleast that's what everybody says,
Like I wasn't the reason they noticed them in the first place.
She laughs with all my friends like she's always belonged,
I hate that she fits in so fast where it took me so long.
She wears my sweater like she's discovered something rare,
And I spend the whole night pretending I don't care.
She says the same things I used to and somehow they sound brand new,
But maybe everything hits different when it's not coming from you.
And I hate the girl I become whenever she walks in,
Like confidence is something only one of us can win.
And maybe that's the difference that took me years to learn,
She's wearing what I wore, but she can't be the person that i am.
I've spent so long worrying that she's going to take everything from me, that I forgot the one thing she can never have: the person I became because of it.
We loved enough to build a
beautiful home.
We loved enough to let each other go.
May we both find peace in
the quiet after.
Today I came back to a hole
where a home had been
So I made a bed
of all the rubble
There is gravel
digging into my spine
ashes falling
into my eyes
They tell me to move
to go and build a home
somewhere new
as if they were telling me
it's a quarter past two..
Like it's obvious..
Like i'm a fool..
Like a hole is not a home...
But i can't forget when it was.
The things left unsaid
grow heavier through the years,
gathering below
like silt in a riverbed
fills in the refection pool.
Snowball, small at first,
gathers more snow as it rolls.
snowman's tiny nose,
becomes head, then a body,
then a roaring avalanche.
Regrets germinate
as roots grow into the soul
become embedded.
what was 'too few to mention'
is now 'too much to ignore'
Hand touches lightly
then tightens for better grip,
as the wanting grows.
the weight becomes the burden
that is so hard to let go.
Fingers on the ledge
numb and trembling from the strain,
grow inflexible
letting go is now so hard
after all the holding on.
together we stood
behind chrome clouds our sun hid~
night appeared calmly
I’m beauty born of breaking,
a rootless wanderer now~
rolling light through open lands,
teaching you to yield
Life it seems has its stages,
Each natural and appropriate
At the designated time.
We begin by grasping and holding
And we end by letting go.
Apparently that letting go
Takes a lifetime to learn.
(5/11/26)
eventually the overthinking had stopped
meditation and prayer had settled emotional scores
and bygones became a bright shadow of hope
past performance was no indicator of future success
the Tarot cards merely pictures of a possible path
a fool on a journey of becoming wise and serene
he settled for what was there at this moment
in immense gratitude and with blossoming faith
in his dream he was transported by a yellow convertible
surely a yellow brick road of transformation ahead
and he settled for amber curiosity and anticipation
conversed with Higher Powers to be in absolute charge
he dusted his boots and polished up an experience
that he had not chosen but lead to freedom and mileage
laced his walking shoes and ventured in patience
floodgates had closed once the earthquake diminished
as a rainbow and solemn star in the sky offered guidance
to move on and embrace a waxing moon of departure
destination not yet disclosed one day at a time
I brought my hammer full of hope,
A pocket lined with careful plans,
Determined I would finally cope
With slipping dreams through restless hands.
I chose a spot upon the wall,
A place where things were meant to stay,
But what I held refused that call—
It wavered, trembled, slid away.
Each time I tried to pin it there,
It shivered loose, it would not bind,
Like fragile thoughts, like whispered air,
Like moments racing through the mind.
They told me, “Hold it, make it last,
Control the shape, don’t let it fall,”
But some things never can be fastened—
Like Jell O pressed against a wall.
And in that struggle, breath grew tight,
My hands grew tired, my heart unsure,
Was I too weak, or was I right
To chase a thing I can’t secure?
So I stepped back and let it be,
No hammer raised, no desperate fight,
And in that quiet, suddenly
It shimmered softly in the light.
Not everything is meant to stay,
Not every dream must be controlled,
Some truths will always slip away—
Uncaptured, fluid, uncontrolled.
And maybe peace is simply this:
To lose the need to make it all
Stand still beneath a forceful wish…
Like nailing Jell O to a wall.
How long should I have pretended
that I didn’t know you?
When I’ve felt like I’ve known you
for a lifetime.
They say words can turn
friends into strangers
and lovers into enemies—
is it really that fragile?
How could I call you a stranger
when you were the one
I would have given everything for?
How long should I have pretended
that I didn’t care about you?
When I felt your pain
every time you ached.
When our eyes met,
when I heard your voice,
my heart faltered
and I could barely breathe.
We are given two eyes
to witness the world’s beauty,
but only one heart—
to find the one meant for it.
Maybe…
our hearts were never meant
to find each other.
How long should I have pretended
that I didn’t love you?
When I caught myself staring,
dreaming about you,
getting lost in your eyes
every single time.
When I made your pain mine,
and your future mine.
And still—
I kept saying no to my heart.
I kept trying to make you
the one.
Even if it meant nothing to you.
But now,
I’m letting you go.
Not because I stopped loving you,
but because I finally understand—
some people are not meant to stay.
One day,
I’ll be able to look at you and not cry.
One day,
I’ll be able to look at you and smile.
One day,
I’ll be able to actually look at you with,
Nothing but hope.
Nothing but admiration.
Nothing but appreciation.
Nothing but gratitude.
Nothing but love.
But not today
And tomorrow might be the same.
But one day.
One day,
I’ll be able to look at you and not break down.
One day,
I’ll be able to look at you and not feel my heart breaking.
One day,
I’ll be able to look at you and say, “She’s so beautiful.”
No hurt.
No pain.
No tears.
No sorrow.
No regrets.
One day.
It's weird.
It's slow.
Like I'm walking
but not moving.
Like a dream,
yet awake.
Everything around fades,
No clenching in my stomach.
No heaviness either.
No giggles.
No screams.
No tears.
No pain.
It's weird.
The traffic feels muted.
The world seems paused.
Birds begin to chirp.
Leaves start to bless.
I notice the breeze.
Isn't it wonderful?
Yet it still feels like a dream-
one that might fade tomorrow.
But it's lovely.
I feel free.
Untied from every rope,
free to feel.
It's the underrated love
of letting go.
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