I hide beneath our magic blanket of dreams, reminiscing about the good old days between threads and mingled breaths. I miss the coziness. Intimate whispers, inside jokes, your hands on my waist, my lips on yours – just like a well-made movie, it’s all playing out in front of my eyes. On days like this, I get lost in the highlight reel of our past. Are you really gone if we never said our goodbyes?
They say sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too. But my heart feels tender and my sky is still waiting for the pink hues to reappear on the horizon. So how could I marvel at something that never happened? There were no sunsets, nor endings. So I’m watching the snow melt while keeping our favorite moments alive. You live in my lungs now, like a bird’s song that I can’t help but sing from time to time.
This poem is found in my book, Beautiful Alien.