I never thought I’d see the day
when your name felt strange in my mouth.
I miss you.
I miss who we were.
But loving you started to feel like holding my breath,
and after a while, I just needed air.
It was like a tie pulled too tight,
a knot I picked at ’til my fingers bled.
Some days, I still sit with the string in my hands,
trying to weave the loose threads of our friendship,
wondering how I let it break—
how I missed the moment we started unraveling.
It’s hard to see exactly where the hell I went wrong.
Maybe everywhere.
Maybe nowhere at all.
The world was always too loud for me—
clattering, crashing, caving in—
but you made it softer.
Like the sweater you gave me,
promising I’d always have you when I wore it.
You muffled the chaos just by being near,
pulling all the noise into your own sleeves,
leaving me just enough silence to breathe.
Now, when you laugh,
it sounds like it’s meant for someone else.
It shouldn’t be for someone else.
It should be with me.
It was always with me.
But you’ve changed.
You are exactly who you said you’d never be.
And I think you know that.
Maybe that’s why you left.
I grew up.
And you grew away.
I think you smoke too much.
I think your friends all ****.
We never did figure out why our parents fought so much.
Maybe they saw the ending before we did.
Maybe they recognized the wreck in us
before we were old enough to read the signs.
After you,
I gave up on love.
Left it folded at the back of my closet,
next to the sweater I never gave back.
I miss the old days
the sleepovers, the warmth,
sneaking in late and crashing on your floor,
blanket forts and cartoons at 2 a.m.,
fortresses of giggles and bruised hearts
we never talked about.
With you, I felt safe.
I’d leave my sweater on your porch,
you’d leave your bag under my stairs.
Don’t go back to your old place.
It was never really home anyway.
The locks are constantly getting changed,
the rooms are colder, emptier,
and the walls have already forgotten us.
I bet it still looks the same
From when i ran away that day
We survived it by pretending,
by making forts out of broken things
but pretending doesn’t work forever.
Pretending only got us so far.
Don’t leave just yet.
There are still games we never finished,
stories still left untold,
lullabies stuck somewhere in our throats,
pieces of us tucked in the corners,
waiting to be found
like loose change in the old couch.
I do miss that old house
the old memories,
the giggles and the cries.
But the last light between us flickered.
Maybe it was always meant to burn out.
I always used to say,
“Stay a little longer.”
Stay, even when the lights went out.
Stay, even when it stopped feeling easy.
Stay, even when I stopped believing you would.
But that’s over now.
The light burned out a long time ago.
I kept using my matches to relight it,
but you didn’t want to use any of your own.
It doesn’t matter now.
But sometimes,
it still feels like it does.
This is a poem inspired by the song "Scott Pilgrim VS my GPA" by
