Gravity
They told me love was gravity.
Something gentle with a terrible pull.
So I fell-
into your hands, your warmth,
the little red universe of your heartbeat.
And for a while
I thought this was it.
The house.
The ring.
The photograph
where we are both still smiling.
All those beautiful things we are taught to want.
I held them like petals,
careful not to bruise what I loved.
But petals fall.
And red fades.
And somewhere between reaching and holding too tight,
I became the moon—
always turning, always returning,
giving you
the light side of me while something darker grew behind my back.
It’s cruel really, how something so profound can be so gentle
I still love the life I imagined.
I still love the person
I imagined beside me.
I just don't know how to keep the dream
without losing
the girl
who dreamed it.
Copyright © Alana Banks | Year Posted 2026
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