Not a soul

If you leave—my side, my heart, my life—I’ll never tell a soul about you.

Not your name, your strength, or your softness hidden beneath it.

I’ll bury the exact shade of your eyes deep in the quiet corners of my memory.

I’ll hide the goosebumps you left behind on the skin you touched—where your fingers lingered, where you held my face like it was fragile, where your lips met my eyelids and your breath warmed my cheek.

I won’t speak your name, not even in passing, because I’d hate for anyone to see the way my eyes still light up at the sound of you.

You’ll live quietly in me, even if the world never hears a word. No matter how far you go—no matter how far you stay—you’ll always be somewhere in the back of my mind, untouched and undefeated.

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I missed you quietly

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A Storm in Glass