I Have Remembered

I have remembered you every day,

even after we parted ways.

I remembered you on sleepless nights,

and on days when sickness kept me awake.

I still remember you.

Especially in dreams,

where you feel so close,

until I wake up and you are gone.

I miss you.

Not for what we had,

but for what we never did.

I miss the moments we never shared,

the love that was never owned.

I looked for you everywhere:

in crowds,

in dreams,

in words not written for me,

in the depths of my inbox

even the spam folder,

perhaps you never wrote at all.

Perhaps you never thought of me

the way I think of you.

I wonder,

do you search for me too?

What will you do of one day you look for me and find nothing but absence?

When you find nothing but rather learn about my death?

Would you grieve?

Would you cry?

But none of that matters now.

I have waited enough

And always rememberd you,

but I leave you here in 2024.

I step into the new year,

without the weight of this longing.

Goodbye

K.

~V

The battleground was silent,

not from peace,

but from the absence of war.

I laid down my weapons too soon,

not because I wanted to,

but because I feared

what victory might demand of me.

Now, the ground is littered

with the wreckage of unsaid words,

apologies turned to ash,

and the echo of your withdrawing footsteps

still rings in my ears.

I wish I had fought for you,

but my hands were too busy

building walls

eventually to see the bridge collapse.

~V

I miss the times we never had together..

Like the sunsets we never witnessed

The coffee that never turned cold while waiting

The conversations we wished for

but never really took place

I miss the times we could have had,

when we had the chance.

~V

Each December

I feel something subtle,

Like the shade of the past

telling me the same story.

December, and suddenly there is a suffocating stiffness,

Not coz of the cold or fog

But because of wretchedness.

Here people began to disappear,

Like a pattern of Bermuda,

Like a ritual or tradition.

It occurs every damned year,

Slowly, without any visible trace.

And every year I stand

before the same window.

Looking out

at the same empty street

Like I am waiting for something

to return.

But nothing returns

And I begin anew

to run the same vicious circle.

~Varinka