I start with the way your presence
still glows in the quiet corners of my mind,
a soft shimmer that refuses to fade
no matter how many nights pass.
It’s strange how a single memory
can warm the bones like a small, stubborn flame.
I see us,
not frozen,
but moving through old laughter,
accidental touch,
the gentle collisions that made us real.
Every recollection feels stitched
with something celestial,
like the moments were built
from pieces of the sky
we didn’t know we were collecting.
A pull deeper,
into the part of love that doesn’t depend
on what has been lived,
but on what continues to rise
inside the chest long after the moment is gone.
This is where I realize
we were never just a chapter.
We are the echo that doesn’t dim,
the spark that refuses distance,
the softness that keeps seeking a home
in the spaces we can’t quite name.
And even now,
when I close my eyes,
I feel something unbroken,
a quiet certainty humming low,
that some connections
don’t know how to end.
They only learn to shine
in new directions.
About the Creator
Printique Studios
A poetic journey weaver, I craft verses that paint the canvas of life with hues of dreams and determination. Their words resonate with empowerment, encouraging others to forge their destinies and embrace gratitude.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
I can feel the 'feelings' in this poem, thankyou for sharing xx
So truculent and real well done on this one 🙏🦋🙏