Nocturnes between heartbeats

Between the lines, I left pieces of myself behind..I was never good with staying still, or with saying things plainly.

So I walked instead. I followed my muses and let the road speak for me.

This is where beauty learns to ache softly, where distance becomes a language.

If you are here, listen carefully.
Some words are written to be found.

If the night ever gave me a companion, how do you know it wasn't you?

Maybe you're only realizing it now.

You'll have to travel to the end.. or read between the lines,
like a quiet detective,
until you recognize your own name
tucked into the journey.