I don't know if you'll ever read this,
maybe you've erased the app and me, with it.
But tonight, the silence feels too loud,
and writing is the only vow
that keeps my chest from trembling slow,
the only way to name this woe.
You disappeared so quietly, so kind,
like wind that never looks behind.
Yet somehow, your absence fills the air,
the loudest quiet, everywhere.
I still wonder if you're awake,
if someone else now makes you ache,
if laughter still escapes your lips,
God, I hope your peace exists.
Do you still think of me, somehow?
Because i still think of you, even now.
You live in corners small and bright,
in morning sun, in fading light,
in songs i skip, in quiet rain,
in pauses that still speak your name.
It's strange how hearts can still remain
longer than the moments came.
We only had a little time,
but in those days, you felt like mine.
You made me drop my guarded tone,
you softened ribs I'd turned to stone.
You were the calm my storms once sought,
the peace my trembling never bought.
Each call, each laugh, each midnight thread,
revived the parts I thought were dead.
You made me gentle, made me true,
a version real, because of you.
Now i don't know how to unsee
the me that bloomed when you saw me.
I'm not angry, just quietly torn,
by missing what will not return.
You left without a word or fight,
just carried off what once held light.
And though i said i'r never care,
you made me wish that you'd still be there.
You made me human, soft, reborn,
you were my calm, my fleeting dawn.
And maybe this is what i earn:
to love without that love returned.
Still, I pray you find your peace,
that every ache in you will cease.
And if by chance these words you see,
know this: you never had to be
anything more than what you are,
you were enough, my northern star.
You were the warmth that eased my storm,
the sun that kept my shadows warm.
And losing you now feels the same,
as losing morning,
but learning your name.