Sometimes ~
Sometimes, you still haunt my dreams.
And just like that, I'm back in last year's ruins,
where your voice still feels like home,
where your touch still lingers on my skin,
where I still believe you'll stay.
Sometimes, I see you in my dreams.
And in that fragile, stolen space,
you love me like you never learned how to leave.
You whisper "I love you" and it doesn't feel like a lie.
Laughter spills effortlessly between us,
our friends surrounding us, unaware
that I am dreaming of ghosts.
Sometimes, I reach for you in those dreams.
Desperate, breathless, aching—
clutching at a love that only exists
when my eyes are closed.
Because in my dreams, you don't walk away.
In my dreams, I don't have to wake up
to the emptiness you left behind.
And then I do.
The silence is deafening.
The bed is too cold, too wrong.
Reality rushes in like a wave,
crashing over the fragile illusion
that you ever truly belonged to me.
Sometimes, I wonder~
Is this agony the price I pay for loving you too much,
or for believing, even for a second,
that you could have loved me the same?
When you left, you had your clarity.
You had your answers.
And all I had was a battlefield of what-ifs,
a storm of questions screaming into a void;
Questions you will never bother to answer.
Sometimes, I hear your laugh in a crowd
and my heart fractures all over again.
I turn too fast, my stomach turns to knots,
only to be met with the crushing weight of your absence.
Other days, I don't turn to look at all.
I keep my head down, keep moving,
avoiding the places where we once existed.
Sometimes, I think I've finally healed.
And then you find me in the one place I can never escape—my dreams.
You undo every stitch,
split every scar wide open,
leave me bleeding in the wreckage
of a love you didn't bother to save.
When does this war end?
When do I stop fighting for someone
who already surrendered me?
