Echo of Us

for the love I couldn’t hold, but never let go

I hear you in the spaces

between silence and sleep—

like a song I forgot the words to

but still hum in my dreams.

You were never a villain,

only a mirror I touched too hard.

And I—I was the storm

disguised as calm.

I still walk through the memories,

barefoot, hoping they don’t bleed.

But even the softest ones

have thorns where you used to be.

I should have said more,

or maybe less.

I should have stayed quiet,

or screamed,

or held you longer that night

when you turned into distance.

Now time rewinds without mercy—

you brush past me

in old photos,

in perfume that doesn’t belong to me,

in songs that say sorry

without saying it out loud.

If you still think of me,

do you forgive the ache I left?

Because I forgive you

for leaving

even though you never said goodbye.

I guess some hearts

were meant to echo

and not remain.

But still,

in every quiet room,

you arrive.

And I—we—

we never truly left.