She holds my hand like it’s borrowed time,
like even touching must answer to someone—
like love itself has curfew.
Her parents speak in finished sentences,
in plans that leave no room for breath:
You will marry.
You will be safe.
You will be good.
And though you're gone, my heart stays true,
Quietly missing every part of you.
For some loves fade and drift apart,
But yours still echoes in my heart.
It's been a month since you walked away,
Yet my heart still waits for you each day.
The calendar moves, the seasons change,
But losing you still feels so strange.