Night folds into the city like a whispered secret.
Lights pulse softly,
and the air tastes of rain and distant voices.
Now, only the silence remains where your footsteps faded,
the spaces between streetlights
where your shadow used to linger.
I search the corners of this restless city—
hoping to catch a glimpse, a trace,
something to anchor the memory
that slips through my fingers like smoke.
But all I find are shadows—soft reminders that you were once here,
woven into the rhythm of streets that no longer hold your name,
and a quiet ache that stays, gentle and endless, beneath the city’s restless hum.
Dawn spills quietly over rooftops,
washing the world in pale light.
The city wakes, indifferent.
And I keep moving—
carrying the weight of absence,
holding onto the shape of you
in the spaces I cannot fill.
You linger in the spaces I cannot leave behind—
a gentle echo I carry quietly,
a wish unspoken,
that maybe, somehow, our paths could have stayed one.
