Poetry

“I stopped checking whether they missed me when I realized missing someone doesn’t mean they deserve another place in your life.”

I had spent so long
fluent in the quiet of an empty house,
I almost forgot the risk
of leaving a door unlocked.
​
Yet there I was,
setting another place at the table,
dusting off a room I had sworn
would remain untouched.
​
I thought I had found
the ending worth beginning for,
only to watch the book snap shut
on the exact page we held our breath
to write what came next.
​
He turned the page
as if my name were written in smoke.

​And I remain,
still tracing pencil lines in the margins,
wondering what every sentence meant,
why some chapters end
before they ever reach their promise.
​
I envy hearts
that can simply close the book
and call it finished.
​Mine, stubborn thing,
insists on reading between the lines.

I knew it was onsra the moment you looked at me and still said goodbye 🥀

Love is truly beautiful
when it is with the right person.

Love feels peaceful
when it comes without being chased.

Love feels enough
when it is appreciated.

And love will leave
when hope
is no longer there 🤍

Smile Says it all, But the EYES tell the Story
#Muscatlife

I'm attracted to you,
The way the ocean is to the moon .
I admire you ,
The way the sunflowers admire the sun.
I want to belong to you ,
The way the moon belongs to sky.
My heart craves for you,
The way the desert craves a single drop of rain.
I love you
The way the sea keeps returning
To the shore without ever getting tired.

And maybe, thats why every beautiful thing reminds me of YOU

Some souls don’t meet by chance; they meet because life has a story to tell.”

There is beauty
in the in between
not where you started,
not yet where you want to be,
but somewhere quietly becoming.

Maybe that is
what life is:
learning to be okay
with the unfinished.

... Poem for people who lost someone they loved...

" The road was long, the shadows deep

Where memories wake while others sleep

I met my grief along the way

With nothing left for us to say

I held it close, a silent guest,

And wept for the heart you once possessed.

Those eyes my stars, my morning light,

That I would kiss to end the night.

How did the spark begin to fade?

In what cold debt was our love paid?

For though you’ve walked a different line,

The ghost of "ours" is purely mine.

You are the rhythm, the pulse, the air,

A breath I take, a silent prayer.

If you are the shore and I the sea,

How can there be a "mine" without a "we"?

I gave away my golden eves,

To autumn winds and falling leaves.

I closed the door, I turned the key,

No other soul shall sit with me.

For even in the void you left behind,

It’s only you my heart can find.

So let the distance stretch and grow,

I have the seeds that you did sow.

I live on "almosts" and "used to be,"

Until your shadow returns to me. "

Great peotry
🫠