BABY CRIBS

 July 16th, 2025


“When loneliness is a constant state of being, it harkens back to a childhood wherein neglect and abandonment were the landscape of life.”


She never said the words, not out loud anyway. Or maybe she did and I didn't want to hear them…words weren't needed, I could feel them anyway.


The way she paused before walking away...

Like maybe, just maybe this time, she wanted to stay.


Her love wasn't loud, it was the shy glances and unfinished texts. A brush of her shoulder.

Like an apology for everything she didn't know how to say, AND that was a lot. 


God. Those eyes and her smile, soft as dusk. Flickering with a thousand things she would never let me name. Her eyes looked at me

Like a question, she didn't know how to answer without breaking something.


At first, she made me feel,

Like I wasn't too much.


Someone could see past my weaknesses, she could see me and not flinch. YET every time I get close enough to feel her heartbeat, she would disappear,

Like mist at sunrise. 


Maybe, she was never really mine to begin with…she wanted to love me, I know that. But I know, I am not easy to love. I saw it in the way her hands hovered, the way she touched my body gently, in the way her eyes softened when she thought I wasn't looking. She held love.

Like it burned.


She'd been scorched and set ablaze before and didn't know how to touch without flinching. She said to me once that she didn't know what I saw on her and didn't know how to be someone's safe place. And I whispered back you already are. 


She never believed me, she couldn't accept the idea of someone loving her as much as I did.


Some people build walls. She built escape routes. Quietly, but she most certainly found a way each time. Mastermind.


And still, I loved her. In every version, and all of her moods, her good days and bad days, and her silence, and her storms, and her fears and in her fire.


I loved her for trying, even when she couldn't stay.


And now? She's gone. Not with a bang, but a breath. A slow fade, I couldn't stop.


Sometimes, I still see her, within strangers who have similar eyes and songs she used to sing in dreams that leave me aching when I wake.


I don't hate her. I never could hate a soul I loved so much. The bitterness is slowly fading.


She was a half finished sentence.


A door left slightly open.


God, she was beautiful, even when she ran, even when she didn't love me back.


The way I needed her the most.


But she was still worth a thousand words.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

check box

smut

stupid fire

help

butterfly effect