in december,
i swore i wouldn’t write
another poem for sean.
said it with a sigh,
maybe even meant it.
i thought,
never again.

but then came january,
quiet and cold,
and somehow he was still
in the smoke of my breath.
a year since we began,
when i fell in love.

february found me
stitching metaphors together
like valentines
i never sent.
february saw the worst of it.

march marched in
with memories and melodies
i played our songs
and called it practice,
but it was always more.

by april,
i was blooming poems
like daffodils,
soft, persistent, yellow with hope.
a year since we ended,
but we grew again during that month.

in may,
every line was him
in some shadowed corner
of what i didn’t know how to say.
we were broken,
but stitched together once more.

and now it’s june.
i’m still writing.
still choosing him
in verse
because i don’t know
how not to.
so much for never again.

woke up wrapped
in the warmth of being loved
by him, by the quiet.
the world felt gentle today.
no red lights
on the way to work.
no rush.
just open roads and soft skies,
like the universe decided
i deserved a breath of ease.
maybe,
just maybe,
today is kind.

you shine in a way
that makes me forget
how scared i am
of things that don’t last.

your laugh is gold.
bright, rare,
the kind of sound
that makes the whole room softer.

your eyes carry the light
of every sunset i’ve ever missed,
and still, they find me
even in the dark.

your love feels like a sunrise
i get to keep waking up to.
gentle.
glowing.
mine.

and i know what they say:
“nothing gold can stay”
but you’re the exception
i want to believe in.
you’re the one i’d hold on to,
even as the world lets go.

maybe,
if i hold you close enough,
if i tell you this often enough,
you’ll stay.
you’ll stay.

“i think i hate everyone here,”
i texted.
and it was true.
in the crowded room
with people laughing too loud,
i wasn’t, though.
i felt small.
not lonely exactly,
just misplaced.

but if you were here,
i think i’d scoot my chair real close
in the way that says,
“thank god you get it,”
we’d make fun of everyone else
without even saying a word,
just one look
and i’d feel understood.
i would laugh,
and make you laugh too.

maybe i don’t hate everyone.
maybe i just miss you
in places
that don’t feel like mine
without you.

for once,
no one talked over me.
the air felt light.
we kept meeting eyes
across the noise.
not awkward,
just right.