Until My Words Forget You

You said you’d rather keep your distance,
not wanting to tether or hold—
that I’d only be a shadow or shimmer,
a warmth you shouldn’t let unfold.

And I understand. In us, I sought forever
and expected you to claim me whole.
I badly wanted a map of the ground
where I could rest my soul.

Our days were unplanned, freely breathing,
and I cherished the moments we kept.
Each laugh, each word, the quiet things—
they’re memories now, softly swept.

I’m sorry for weaving your name in poems,
for writing these words for you,
but I’ll try to leave them behind awhile
and search for myself in places new.

And if you find yourself in these lines,
know it’s not to pull you close.
I wrote them so I’d remember
the gentlest parts of you where feelings rose.

So until my heart and pen see me as my own muse,
you’ll linger here—a love I could never afford to lose.