“Left Behind” You leftyour toothbrush in the cup,your scent in my sheets,your laugh in the cornerswhere sunlight still falls. The door didn’t slam.You just stoppedcoming home. Now, I water the plantyou picked for the windowsill.It’s dying slowly—but not enough to forgetwhat green looked likewhen you were here. I talk less now.There’s no one to fillthe

You didn’t leave all at once.It was a slow unravel—like thread pulled froma sweater I still wearbecause it smells like you. We stopped talkingthe way stars stop shiningbefore morning notices.Not loud.Just gone. I kept rereading your last message,as if hidden in the spacesbetween “take care”and the periodwas a reason to stay. I slept on your

At first, he was sugar,soft words and gentle skies,our days painted rainbow,our nights sweet strawberry lies. I thought I’d found forever,a love so rare, so true,but monsters wear masks too,and his mask began to slip through. Soon the colors faded,sweet turned into sting,I cried till my chest ached,my pillow a drowning spring. Each night I

things i never said I folded love into quiet glances,Left it blooming where you’d never look.You held my hand like a habit,Not a promise—just a page you never took. You spoke in futures I never fit,Built blueprints I watched from the edge.I whispered want in silent rooms,While you made vows to a phantom ledge. You