i wake in the silence
the hollow underneath the noise
our backs turned sideways
like two people pretending distance
could soften what we feel
i can sense the turbulence between us
the subtle shifts in breathing
the tension hidden inside stillness
we move through time carefully
swaying from line to line
moment to moment
trying not to disturb the fragile shape of this
and i bask in it anyway
trying to understand
what this could become
what we are when no one else is around
when the room is dim
and honesty finally has somewhere to sit
i know you feel it
i know you can taste it
the weight of it resting on your tongue
that is what leaves me here
surrounded by books and details
memorizing the way you exist
the way your arms wrap around me
like you’re afraid something beautiful
always leaves eventually
these are things i know you feel too
i reel and i follow
circling thoughts like they might lead me back to you
asking you to stay inside this moment with me
a little longer
before fear ruins it
between the salt burns of our time
the wounds we never named
i move without stepping
like memory itself is carrying me
arms tight around the shape of what we were
eyes locked in resistance
both of us pretending we don’t know
how much this matters
i’m not sure how you do this
how you hide hurt so carefully
how you stand there composed
while your sadness leaks through
the smallest details
we break just to bend again
i slam books onto shelves
trying to organize the chaos in my head
but every thought returns to you
to the quiet sadness living in these rooms
to the weeks i held you
like something sacred
your fingers locked inside mine
as if we could preserve time
through touch alone
and now i leave you here
i stand at the end of your hallway
watching the distance stretch between us
and i look at you
really look at you
like i’m trying to memorize
every last detail before it disappears
do you feel this
i know you do
i ask questions
even when i already know the answers
because i need to hear them leave your mouth
i need proof that this existed outside my own head
the way your tongue moves around words
the pulse in your neck
our silence breathing louder than conversation
the warmth of your skin against mine
the touch of my veins resting atop your leg
like my body itself
was trying to stay connected to you
to dance inside this
the bliss of our echoes
words moving softly from room to room
the kind of intimacy
that makes ordinary spaces feel holy
we etch ourselves
into what we believe
carving meaning into fleeting things
hoping they survive longer than we do
i ask you to take a chance
but sometimes chances feel too heavy
sometimes love asks for more courage
than people know how to carry
and in time
you begin to regret the silence
the pauses
the things left unsaid
the moments fear stole from you
before you even realized they mattered
that is why i say everything
everywhere
all at once
because the truth is
we do not regret honesty
we regret restraint
the words we buried alive
the nights we let slip into shadows
the people we almost held onto
the touch that feels too good
convinces us it cannot stay
that something this gentle
must eventually disappear
but it can stay
if you let it